Chuck vs the Unexpected Guests
by erb
Summary: Post series - approx. 2 years.  Morgan drops by with news.  Alex is kidnapped because of Casey. During a rescue attempt in Kenya, Sarah realizes she may not really be the woman she thinks she's become. And, someone's on Chuck's couch drinking Chuck's soda
1. Prologue

_Author Note: This chapter sets the plot in motion, but don't worry there is plenty of Chuck and Sarah in this story. The next chapter, for example, is full of playful Chuck charm._

Sitting alone in a dark room surrounded by computer keyboards and video screens, former Colonel John Casey watched a man in black standard issue Verbanski Corporation uniform drop, followed by another. His left hand hit the silent alarm while his right pulled his .44 caliber Desert Eagle from its holster. Gertrude's voice came over the comm.

"John, report."

"Two guards - University Way and Bedfordshire. Single shot each to the head."

"Okay, we're sending backup," she answered.

Casey watched the video surveillance as a man walked directly down the middle of the street past the point where the two guards were stationed.

"Breach - intersection of University Way and Befordshire heading south," Casey added. "One Caucasian male, about six foot, dark brown hair wearing a zip-up black windbreaker and black dress pants. Apparently armed with one 9mm."

Casey followed the intruder's movements as he walked straight south to the roundabout then took the road east. This road headed to the Engineering Building at Cranfield University.

Cranfield University was a small university located in the English countryside. About one hour and fifteen minutes north of London on the M1 and surrounded by a few small buildings that made up a quaint little town, the school was beautiful. In addition to being an idyllic setting for a university, it was located directly adjacent to a rather modern small airport. This made it the perfect location for a gathering of United Nation scientists currently under the protection of Verbanski Corporation.

"He isn't even attempting to conceal himself. Proceed with caution." Casey watched as the intruder shot two more Verbanski associates. Each in full body armor, each with a single shot to the head.

"Weapons free, but try to take him alive," Gertrude's voice ordered over the comms. "Casey, ears sharp."

This was the signal to switch his comm to secure channel Bravo. He set the Desert Eagle on the desk in front of him and pushed a button on his watch. "What do you need me to do?"

"Take the XV24 and move to extraction point Theda. If we aren't back to condition green in two minutes, execute protocol 329."

"Affirmative. 329."

"And John," Gertrude paused for a split second, "be careful."

"Affirmative. Switching back to General Channel 1."

On the monitors, the intruder had moved to a position of cover near the parking lot of the Engineering Building. He was systematically taking aim at guards from the cover of a Mini Cooper and dropping them one by one.

Casey grabbed his Desert Eagle left the command center and proceeded down a well lit white hallway to a medium sized white room with tall ceilings adjacent to the command center. Here, four women and two men in white lab coats worked around a table. Out of the center of the table rose a single slender rod. Various precision tools at the end of mechanical arms pointed to the end of this rod. Above, a large microscope pointed down to the tip. Monitors ringed the table.

"Ladies and gentlemen, there seems to be a change in plans. I will be taking the XV24 now and securing it until the current threat passes," Casey addressed the group.

"Threat?" asked one of the men, turning on Casey and lifting his glasses to his forehead.

"Yes. An armed intruder is making his way to this facility. I would suggest you remove any identification or clothing that may mark you as a specialist and move in among the rest of the university staff and students."

With that, the room emptied quickly. Casey walked to the table and grabbed a small vial that lay atop the reflective steel surface. With one movement, he used his index finger to sweep a small microchip - not much bigger than a grain of rice - into the vial. He corked it and walked out of the room. Heading to the west exit, he peered out of the door's window and stopped. The single sharpshooter suddenly looked like a better option.

"Gertrude?" Casey said over the comm, "Ears sharp." After he switched back to the secure channel he continued, "We have a small militia rolling across the field to the west. 329 is aborted."

"Alright," she said calmly, "here's what we'll do."

-O-

Gertrude's men had the intruder pinned. A sniper disarmed him with a clean shot to his shooting hand and another team moved in. The intruder dispatched the first two guards, one by a roundhouse kick, the other with a thrust to the throat. Four more guards divided his perimeter into quarters and advanced. He charged one, swept the leg and then brought the full force of his heel down on the guard's nose. As he popped back up, a taser from his right sent the man in the black windbreaker convulsing to the ground.

In a little less then five minutes, he awoke. Gertrude stood over him. They were in the back of a van, preparing to head out of the university. "You have one chance to divulge the entire plan before I have Avery here extract it from you." Avery did not look very friendly.

-O-

"John," Gertrude's voice came over the comm, General Channel 1. "It's confirmed. We're rolling. We'll take the XV24 and head to the extraction point in Bedford. ETA 7 minutes."

Casey heard the call as he hid in a jet fuel tanker that Verbanski Corp. positioned on the airfield adjacent the college. It was filled with jet fuel, but a door underneath concealed a space just large enough for someone Casey's size to hide. In interrogation, Avery quickly ascertained that the intruder and the militia from the west had ears on the entire operation. They did not however, as far as anyone could tell, have access to their secure channel. Gertrude would lead the small militia away from the University allowing Casey to fly out in a Verbanski Corp. aircraft stored in a nearby hangar. Real-time satellite recon forwarded to Casey's phone showed him two guards milling about the airstrip, two more men walking atop two different hangars, and a small army following the decoy.

Casey would have to wait for an opportunity to get the jump on the two guards patrolling the airstrip. He had the Desert Eagle fitted with a silencer and subsonic rounds, but even so, the noise would be noticeable. He widened out the satellite view slightly and saw his opportunity approaching from the west. A small helicopter, probably a scout or command copter, was approaching the strip. This would create just enough noise to cover his silenced pistol.

Casey heard the sound of the copter's blades coursing through the air as he slowly unlatched the hatch to the side of him. The guards were each at the opposite end of the tanker truck and each facing away.

As noise from the helicopter grew just a little louder, he released the door, rolled sideways out of his hiding spot and hit the ground in a crouch. He spun around to shoot the guard furthest from the copter before wheeling around to kill the other guard. Casey quickly made his way to this second guard. He removed the silencer from his own pistol, dropped it in a velcro pocket, holstered his sidearm and grabbed the guard's AKM. The newly acquired sub-machine gun felt good in his hands. With it, he headed toward the helicopter.

The pilot and one other man, both in military style baseball caps and jumpsuits, manned the two seats of this bird. They appeared unarmed. When one of the men saw Casey approach, he signaled for other, obviously the pilot, to take off and then started shouting into his microphone.

Casey sprinted for the copter and leaped onto the strut just as the bird was ascending. He released the buckle that held the pilot in, grabbed his jumpsuit and tossed him from the rising helicopter. The second man grabbed the stick and tried to steady the wavering aircraft. Casey pulled himself into the seat and put on the headset he ripped off the pilot's head as he tossed him to the tarmac. He introduced himself.

"Hello there. As a member of Verbanski Corporation, I would like to welcome you and let you know that I am going to have to ask you to deplane immediately. We're only about twenty feet up," he checked the altimeter. "Correction, twenty five. You'll probably survive the fall. You won't, on the other hand, survive this." He shoved the barrel of the AKM into his ribs.

The man unbuckled his belt, stepped onto the strut and jumped to the ground. It looked like it hurt.

"Verbanski. The bird is away."


	2. Chapter 1

_Reviews eagerly welcomed._

_I do not own Chuck._

"What time do you need to check in for that conference call?" Sarah asked as she rolled over and placed her hand on Chuck's side of the bed. He was gone. "Chuck?"

With his foot, Chuck pushed open the bedroom door and carried in a tray with pancakes, fresh fruit, sausage links and a glass of orange juice. One tulip decorated a vase, also on the tray.

"Good morning Sarah, happy first day of Spring." Chuck, smiling widely, placed the tray over Sarah's legs as she sat up.

"Thank you Chuck. I suppose I shouldn't ask, but why are we celebrating the first day of Spring?"

"Good question. The first day of Spring is just a coincidence really, but it's a lot easier to say that than happy one year in our new home in Chicago and eight week birthday of little Emma Mary."

Sarah smiled wider now. "Has it been six months, really? In a lot of ways, with more of my memory coming back everyday, it seems like longer. I don't just get a new day's worth of memories, but days, weeks or months back from what I lost."

"So, what have you remembered since yesterday?"

"Yesterday was a slow day. I do recall something about a strange brown bikini."

"Like this one?" Chuck reached over to his side of the bed and grabbed a picture off the nightstand of Sarah in Princess Leia's dancing girl costume from _Return of the Jedi_."

"Yes, exactly like that."

"Good. You know, you used to wear this for me all the time. At least once a week." Chuck smiled widely as he too gazed at the picture.

"Chuck," Sarah turned serious, "even losing my memory, I know certain things. I know you love me. I know how empty my life was before you and Emma and all of this." A smile slowly stole across her face at the mention of their daughter. "And," she paused, tilted the picture toward her so she could see it more clearly, "that I would never wear this once a week. As a matter of fact, I don't think you could convince me I wore it once if you didn't have this picture."

"Okay, maybe not once a week."

"Chuck?"

"Alright, you only wore it this once, and only because you were trying to make up to me for something you think you did."

"Which was what?"

"You know, I don't even remember. This costume took a little piece of my memory away too, but left me with one heck of a great one in its place."

A cry from the bassinet in the corner of the bedroom caused Sarah to begin sliding the tray away.

"Nope, you stay put. Dad will take care of this." Chuck walked across the room and gingerly picked up Emma wrapped her in a blanket and cradled her in his arms. He began bouncing and swaying from side to side, but her crying continued.

"Um, maybe she is hungry, or wet?" He slipped his hand in through the leg hole of the diapers. "Nope, not wet."

"Bring her over, I can eat later."

"No Sarah, this is going to be a morning off for you. You eat, and I'll take her to the kitchen and prepare a bottle."

As Chuck and Emma went out the bedroom door, Sarah tried some of the pancakes. They were very good. Certainly a Bartowski family talent – making pancakes. Light streamed in through the window of their bedroom, outlining the picture Chuck had left on the bed. Sarah smiled. She certainly did remember packing this costume when they moved to Chicago from Burbank to be nearer to Ellie and Devon, but at the time she thought it had something to do with some bizarre mission. She had almost wished it had. Since Emma was born, Sarah had gotten back to her strict workout routine. She was almost back in "Princess Leia" shape, although she was pretty certain there was nothing she would be able to do to fit in the top right now. Nature would have to take care of that over time.

She put the picture back where Chuck left it and reached over to her own nightstand for a copy of _Home and Design_ magazine. With the baby and the move, she really hadn't had time to decorate the new place the way she wanted. She was looking forward to today's shopping trip with Ellie. When it came to shopping Ellie was an expert. She had great instincts and even better taste. Until the last year of so, Sarah's life never left much time to think about such things. It was nice to have a big sister to shop with.

It had been about five minutes since Chuck took Emma out to the kitchen, and she could still hear little Emma crying and Chuck shushing her. She had eaten most of the pancakes, all but one of the sausage links and all of the fresh fruit. Grabbing the tray, she headed out to the kitchen. The winter in Chicago had been long and cold, but once the baby came they kept the house a cozy 75 degrees. At that temperature, Sarah's mid-thigh nightgown was more than warm enough. With the last five pounds she lost, she traded terry cloth robes for alluring negligees again.

On three sides of the kitchen walls hung beautifully simple light maple cabinets. Black granite counter-tops and stainless steel appliances finished off the space. In the center of the rather large kitchen stood an island with sink and preparation surface on one side and a raised bar with four stools on the other. Sarah placed her tray on the island and extended her arms toward Emma.

"Now Sarah, this your day to rest... oh if you insist." Chuck gave up without much of a fight and handed the squirming crying little girl to her mother. She quieted instantly. Sarah smiled down at her daughter. Chuck took out his iPhone and snapped a picture of mother and daughter. As Sarah looked up Chuck said, "I needed a new picture for when you call. This is perfect." Sarah smiled more broadly now.

"Did you begin warming up the bottle already?"

"Not yet, just got it out of the refrigerator. Then we started walking around the room."

"Don't bother, I'll take care of it." Sarah took Emma to the rocking chair. The open concept ranch style house with vaulted ceilings allowed the island area of the kitchen to flow nicely into an airy living room. The leather sectional defined the area between the living room and the kitchen and faced a large field stone fireplace. Above the mantle hung a large mirror that doubled, when switched on, as a television. In addition to the sectional, one rocking chair and one glider sat just off to the right of fireplace. Sarah and baby retired to the rocker as she nursed little Emma.

"Well, I have that conference call in an hour. I suppose I should get a shower and get dressed." As Chuck walked back to the bedroom, there was a quick knock on the door, then the handle turned and Morgan burst through the door.

"Buddy!" Morgan smiled wide as he reached out both arms to Chuck. The he looked to his left and saw Sarah. "Sarah! Oh... Sarah." Morgan began to stumble a little. He couldn't take his eyes off of the nursing mother. "Umm... Looks like maybe I've come at a bad time. Probably should have called first. I just thought a surprise, well. Umm. Alex?"

Morgan turned away from Sarah and looked back through the still open door. He stretched out his hand and pulled her through. As he did so, he placed his hand against the side of her face, shielding her from the sight of Sarah and Emma.

"Morgan, relax," she pushed his hand down. "Hi Sarah."

"Alex. This is a surprise. It's nice to see the two of you again."

"Thanks. Sarah, you look absolutely beautiful. How long has it been since you had her?"

"Eight weeks today."

"Wow, you'd never know." Alex walked over toward Sarah. As if it just dawned on her that she had completely overlooked the father of the child, Alex turned her head and waved to him. "Oh, hi Chuck."

"Yea, this happens a lot to me lately. 'Oh looks there's the baby!' 'Oh yea, hi Chuck,'" he smiled wryly and waved. "Well Morgan, it is great to see you two again. What brings you to town buddy?"

"Well, show 'em Alex." Alex stuck out her had toward Sarah then Chuck. On the ring finger of her left hand, a beautiful engagement right sparkled.

"We couldn't tell you on the phone," Alex beamed as she tipped her had back toward her so she could see it also.

"Hey, way to go buddy!" Chuck gave Morgan a big bro hug.

"It is beautiful. So when's the wedding?" Sarah asked.

"Well, that's another reason we are here," Morgan began. "We called Dad..."

"Wait, you call Casey 'Dad'?" Chuck's eyes opened wide.

"Well, not exactly to his face yet. I thought I would try in on for a while before I say it in front of him."

"Morgan, honey, maybe not," Alex said.

"You're probably right. Anyway, we were thinking of having the wedding here."

"In Chicago?" asked Chuck.

"Well, I mean here," Morgan's gesture encompassed the room.

"Umm, sure, I mean," Chuck looked to Sarah. She smiled, here eyes crinkling in the corners. "Okay, yea. Why not?"

"I knew I could count on you Chuck. How does Sunday sound?"

"It sounds soon, buddy. There's a lot to do to put a wedding together. Do you even have a marriage license?"

"Ah, details, details. You and I can take care of all that, while the girls get all of the girly stuff together. Right Alex?"

"We're going to make it small," Alex said. "And Sarah, if you don't mind, I would love to have you and Ellie help me pick out a simple white dress."

"Of course. We were going shopping today anyway. What could be more fun than helping you shop for a wedding dress?" As she was speaking, Morgan's attention was again drawn to Emma's feeding.

"Alright Morgan. Morgan?" Chuck was trying to re-direct Morgan's attention. "Let's find Devon and see if we can get take care of your stuff."

"Honey, what about the conference call?"

"Oh, that's right. Okay Morgan, you head to Ellie's. When you and Devon are ready to go I should be done with business and I'll meet up with you."

"We can all go in our car." Sarah stood up, turned her back to Morgan and removed the feeding child. Once she was adequately covered she turned back to the room. "Let me get dressed. Here Alex, could you hold Emma?"

Alex smiled as she looked at the sleeping little girl. Morgan slid in next to Alex and peered a Emma over Alex's shoulder. "We are going to have lots of these," Morgan said.

Alex looked to Morgan then back to the baby. "One thing at a time, honey."

"Hey Morgan, let me show you around the place." Chuck took Morgan on the tour – kitchen, bathroom, guest room, baby room. As they reached the bottom of the basement stairs, Morgan lit up.

"Nothing says wedding like a big unfinished basement. Can we have the reception down here? Some lights, some speakers, it'll be perfect."

"Sure thing Morgan. Alright, I need to head to work. I'll catch you and Devon in a few."

Morgan walked back up the stairs as Chuck went into the bathroom – the one finished place in an otherwise unfinished basement. Standing in the shower stall and pulling on the shower head while turning the soap holder counter-clockwise, the stall spun around and Chuck was in the new Castle. The words "Carmichael Industries" were painted on the glass wall now directly in front of Chuck. Chuck sat down at the conference table and prepared to become Charles Carmichael again – a transformation that had gotten easier and easier over the years.

Now that Carmichael Industries has devoted itself entirely to cybercrime, both he and Sarah had gone to great lengths to protect their real identities. Every meeting with perspective clients took place online with filters obscuring both their images and their voices. Some clients balked at this arrangement, but Carmichael Industries' results spoke for themselves. As word spread objections grew much less frequent.

"Incoming call Mr. Carmichael." The voice was that of V.I.C.T.O.R. – Virtual Intelligent Computer Technology and Organized Receptionist. With his spare time, Chuck had made something of a hobby of artificial intelligence.

"Put 'em up Victor, with filters. Also, bring up the files for Anderson International."

"Yes Mr. Carmichael."

The table in front of Chuck lit up with multiple files he could shuffle with his fingertips and double click to open.

"Jordan Evans, I'm Charles Carmichael. Good to finally talk to you."

"Mr. Carmichael. I am joined by two associates, Sandy Alexander and Phillip DeVillers." Each of the assistants took turns offering a hello before Mr. Evans spoke again. "It is a bit unnerving talking to a silhouette. I don't suppose there is anyway to..."

"Sorry. Company policy. So, your company's online retail presence has been under attack by hackers?"

"That's right. Just yesterday they shut us down for over three hours. We lost nearly $1 million in anticipated sales. And this was the fourth attack this month."

"Well, in order to eliminate this problem I'm going to need full access to all of your systems, of course. But, I'm certain we can get these attacks stopped and give you all the evidence you'll need to pursue prosecution, if you wish."

"That is exactly what we're looking for. I haven't built this company into the third largest online sporting goods retailer just to let some kids with a PC tear it down."

"Understood Mr. Evans. As per our agreement there is a nominal retainer, and the bulk of the fee will only be due once we have stopped the attacks and tracked the hackers down for you." As Chuck spoke, he moved and opened files on his tabletop, closed some files, opened others. There were company payroll reports, identification photos, client lists, the usual stuff. His hand stopped on one client name – Tommy Delgato. Chuck didn't have to flash to remember this name. Certainly, this couldn't be the same man.

"Anything else Mr. Carmichael? When can we expect you will have some news for us?"

"Umm... yea." Clearly distracted by this name from his past Chuck looked up, "Sorry. We should have some good news from you by the end of the week. We'll get to work on this right away."

"Great. Look forward to your report. We're transferring the retainer now. Good day Mr. Carmichael."

"Thank you, you too." Then, "Victor, disconnect."

He slid the client list to the front and expanded the information on Delgato. Certainly, that name was common enough. There was no way this was _the_ Tommy Delgato. Chuck's phone rang and he looked down to see the photo he just took of Sarah and Emma.

"Hello honey."

"Hello Chuck. Just wanted to let you know that Ellie, Alex and I are going to be heading out shopping and taking care of some of the details for the wedding tomorrow. Your mother's here and she's going to watch Clara and Emma."

"Great, tell Morgan I'm on my way – I'll call him to find out where to meet them."

"Alright Chuck. See you tonight."


	3. Chapter 2

Chuck took 94 to 290 and headed west to the North Riverside Mall to meet Morgan and Devon. They were sitting, just as expected, in the Starbucks awaiting his arrival.

"Okay guys, let's get this wedding rolling." A long day of suits, shoes, and tracking down a justice of the peace ended with a little dinner at the Olive Garden, right back at the mall where they started.

"Well, I guess as best man, I have to come up with some kind of bachelor's party for you," Chuck said over the salad.

"Oh man, I didn't even think of that. You don't have to do anything crazy on such short notice. This has been party enough."

"Chuck, Morgan, I think I have the perfect thing for this man's bachelor party. Let's go." The three of them got up and headed into Devon's mini-van. "No strippers or drunken incidents for us boys. We are going to do what real men do in this town and catch a night game at Wrigley."

"Baseball, umm sure. What the heck, may as well hang with my amigos one more time while enjoying the National Pastime," Morgan forced a smile.

"I should call the women and let them know we will be out a little late." Chuck hit the icon for Sarah. It rang several times, then went to voice mail. "That's unusual. She always picks up. I'll try again." He redialed. This time Sarah picked up. "Hey honey, Devon and I are going to take Morgan on a guys' night out to the Cubs' game for his bachelor party."

"Okay. We are still out too. I don't know when we will get back."

"You girls having a little celebration of your own?"

"Yes. We might be out a while, so don't wait up."

"Okay, well you three behave. You have to get Alex to the altar on time tomorrow."

"Sure thing honey. Well, I should get going. I love you."

"Okay, love you... wait, Sarah?" the line went dead.

"Guys, something is up?" Chuck's brow furrowed.

"What, you aren't worried they will do some crazy bachelorette stuff are you?" Morgan smiled. "Don't worry Chuck, Alex isn't much for male strippers and lap dances. At least I think..."

"No, it's not that. Before Sarah hung up she said, 'I love you.'"

"Yea, and..." Morgan waited.

"Ever since she lost her memory, she never says 'I love you.'"

"I thought you said that she remembers almost everything now?" As Chuck and Morgan continued talking, Devon pulled the car over and turned to listen in as well.

"Yea bro. Ellie said she is almost back to the old Sarah now."

"Listen. At first, I kept telling Sarah that I loved her and that everything was going to be alright. I told her, it didn't matter how much time it took, I would be there for her – to help her."

"Right, and over time she remembered more and more. You told me this," Morgan said.

"But all that time, even though I could say 'I love you,' she never could. It got so she started feeling bad about not being able to say it back. One night, after a very romantic dinner and some dancing, I told her I loved her and she just started to cry. I took both of her arms and turned her to me. 'Listen,' I said, 'you don't have to say it back. I understand. You know I love you, right?' She nodded. 'Well then, just say that.' From that day forward, instead of saying 'I love you,' she always says, 'You love me.' It was about two months later – after dozens of 'you love me's' when I saw something different in her eyes when she said it. I remember, it was in the plaza of the old apartment, nighttime. I took the back of my hand and brushed it against her cheek and said, 'You love me too.'"

"Wow bro, no wonder she fell in love with you all over again. You are the James Bond of romance." Devon was sincerely impressed.

"That's how it's been ever since. She says, 'You love me' and I say, 'You love me too.' It is kind of our thing. But on the phone, just now - 'I love you.'" Chuck looked down at his phone. "Something's wrong."

Devon and Morgan both tried calling their respective partners with no luck. Both phones went straight to voicemail.

Chuck punched up Latitude on his phone and looked for Sarah's location. "It says she is at Lake Shore Country Club. That's your club, right Devon?"

"Yea, we're members there."

"Let's go."

Devon wove the mini van as best he could through traffic 290, back to 94 and north to the Dundee Road exit. Heading north up Green Bay Road, they sped into the country club lot. Chuck, Morgan and Devon ran to the door. As a valet standing there attempted to slow them down, Chuck simply pointed at Devon and said, "We're with him." Devon had his membership card out and flashed it as they ran past. They stopped by the maitre de's station.

"Hello, we're looking for three women," Chuck said to the maitre de. "Our wives, well his almost wife. One blond, stunning, wearing a long red dress and red shoes. The other, tall, brunette – Devon, what was she wearing?"

"Man bro, I'm not sure."

"Ah, Dr. Wootcomb. Are you looking for Mrs. Dr. Woodcomb?"

"Ah yes. Wait, you're Peter right? Great. Did you see my wife here?"

"They were here, but I can't say as I saw them leave. The one lady, I believe it was the younger one, she received a call during dessert. She went to the desk to take the call. The next time I looked, all three women were gone."

"Umm, Peter is it? Ya, could you check and see if any other table cleared out about the same time you last saw our wives? Oh, and his almost-wife?" Chuck asked.

"Well, let's see," Peter ran his hand down the table assignments. "Dr. and Mrs. Lewis finished up a few minutes before the call. They were dining with a guest I haven't met as yet. A man, early thirties, dark hair, medium build, traditional grey suit with a fetching light blue and yellow tie. Then... no one else for close to a half an hour after."

"Dr. Lewis, where is he now?" Chuck asked.

"I think they retired to the red room for pedifores and coffee. I don't think the other man joined them."

"Thanks Peter, you've been a great help." Then to Devon, "The red room?"

"Follow me Bro."


	4. Chapter 3

_Author's note - some minor changes to this chapter. Only relevant if you already read it - added a little action with Morgan near the end, that's all._

When Alex got the word from their server that she had a call, she didn't think much of it. But, as she walked down the hall leading toward the country club lobby she began to wonder why the person didn't just call her cell? And how would anyone know to call her here? Morgan didn't even know she was here. It was as this thought struck her that she turned around to head back to the table. Then something else struck her and things went black.

Sarah and Ellie were finishing up dessert. Flourless chocolate cake. Sarah tried to resist, it took so long to get back into shape, but she would just spar an extra ten minutes tomorrow. Cheesecake for Ellie and a fudge brownie with ice cream for Alex. As Alex's ice cream melted, Sarah and Ellie started to wonder where she went.

"She did have her cell didn't she?" Sarah asked.

"I think so. She was going to call Morgan after lunch to find out about the minister," Ellie said finishing the last bite of cheesecake.

"Maybe we should find her. Can you show me where the phones are?"

Ellie led Sarah down the same hallway Alex disappeared into. As the turned the corner to the phones, a man with a rather large pistol stood in back of them. It was then that Sarah's phone rang.

"Answer it," the man said. Sarah turned to face him. He was just far enough away so that she couldn't disarm him with a sweep of her leg. "You don't want people to wonder where you are do you dear? Answer it."

As she reached for her phone, it stopped ringing. Voicemail. Then it rang again. She could see it was Chuck.

"Answer it, and speak very carefully. Anything funny and I shoot you here."

When Sarah hung up with Chuck two darts, one for each of them, sailed into their necks from the direction of the phone banks.

"Let's get them in the room," a second voice said. This was the last thing Sarah heard until...

"Alex? Ellie? Are either of you two here?" Sarah asked, blindfolded. The ropes were tight and the knots were not in reach of her fingers. Her captors tied each hand separately to the back leg of the chair. She tried to pull her legs straight up. Her legs were crossed and each ankle was tied to the opposite front leg of the chair. This was going to made it interesting, she thought.

After about five minutes Sarah heard Ellie's voice. "Sarah? Are you here?"

"I'm right here Ellie. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but I'm tied to a chair."

"Don't panic, we will be out of here in a few minutes. I have been in situations like this many times before. Just follow my directions and we will both be home in no time."

Sarah tried to remember how they surprised her. She certainly was a little rusty with all of the time off, but the guys that tied her up really knew what they were doing.

"Ellie, I am going to try to inch over to you. Say something again so I can locate you more exactly."

"I'm here. Where is Alex? Alex? Are you here? Alex?"

"Good. You're about ten feet away. I am going to try to slide my chair toward you. Listen for the legs on the ground. If I sound like I am getting further away, say something."

"Then what?"

"Just relax. This will all be over soon." Each time Sarah shifted her weight to her crossed feet, her ankles gave a little under the pressure and the ropes dug in a little further. They must have tied the ropes to a cross member under the chair, because she couldn't slide them off the bottom. Finally, her chair bumped Ellie's. They were back to back.

"Okay Ellie, I am going to turn 90 degrees then flip my chair backwards. That should put my left calf near one of your hands. I have a set of throwing knives velcroed part way up my calf. You will have to work one free. Ready?"

"Yes." The a second later added, "Wait. You bring throwing knives to a bachelorette party?"

Sarah tipped her chair back. She tried to tuck her chin to keep her head from hitting the cement floor. She partially succeeded. Reeling a little, she tried to move her leg nearer to Ellie's hand.

"How many bachelorette parties have you been to? Yes I brought the knives. You should be able to grab one with your left hand. Just slide my pant leg up a few inches." Ellie could feel the canvas and velcro holster. "That's it. Now grab one and use it to cut the ropes on my legs."

The sharp knife made quick work of the rope on her right leg. Fortunately, whoever tied her up used one rope for both legs. In minutes Sarah had bent her left leg back to her left hand. She slid out another throwing knife and had her hands free in seconds. Then the blindfold, then Ellie's rope and blindfold. There was no Alex.

The small rectangular windows up near the ceiling indicated they were in the basement. One door led out of the room – wooden and not particularly well reinforced. Sarah moved to the door and pressed her ear against it. She heard nothing. Then she grabbed her chair and went to one of the two basement windows. Peering out, she saw rows of parked golf carts. They were still at the country club.

"Should we try shimmying out the window?" Ellie asked?

"Why bother when we have the door?" With that Sarah braced the chair against her shoulder and ran full bore into the door with the metal chair legs leading the charge. If someone could have viewed this in slow motion, the first thing one would notice is each chair leg piercing the thin wooden door. Then, with four holes weakening the already insubstantial door, The seat of the chair slammed into the center and the door shattered like it was balsa.

As soon as she was clear of the door, Sarah planted the chair into the ground, her shoulder still braced against the seat. Then, with a push of her legs, she was sailing over the back of the chair and landed on her feet, knees spung, hands ready.

As impressive as all this looked to Ellie, she was the only one who saw it. The hallway was empty and dark. An exit sign the only light well at the end of the hall and up a flight of stairs. Although several doors flanked either side of this hall, all of them opened to empty rooms, or rooms filled with extra chairs, linens or folding tables for the country club hall above. No Alex.

Upstairs, at that very moment, Chuck, Devon and Morgan were walking into the Red Room at the Lake Shore Country Club. "Dr. Lewis?" There were only two couples in the lounge at this time in the evening. The early bird crowd to be sure.

"Yes?" answered a rather nattily dressed older man who previously was chatting quietly with his wife.

"Hi, my name is Charles Carmichael. I do investigative work for Carmichael Industries. I was just wondering if you could tell me who you were dining with this evening?"

"Oh my, is he in some kind of trouble?"

"No, not at all sir. Why do you ask?" Chuck questioned.

"Well, he seemed nervous during dinner. It was the oddest thing..."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he met us at the door of the club and asked us if we could help him out. His father, Harold Lancaster, a founding member of the club, had forgotten to call and they weren't going to let him into the club for dinner. Imagine that, the people here treating a young man just back from the Middle East with such disrespect?" Dr. Lewis looked for some agreement from the three men. All he got was a nod from his wife.

"Just back from the Middle East? How did you know?" Chuck asked.

"Well, he told us, of course. That was why no one here recognized him. War changes a man. Well the least we could do was invite him to dine with us."

"I see. And during dinner?"

"He didn't eat much. He just kept looking around the room. He must have found whomever he was looking for though. Right before we finished our meal he excused himself and went out toward the exit."

"Did you see anyone leave with him? Three women?"

"Oh, no. He just went down this hall and disappeared." Dr. Lewis said. "Are you boys friends of his from the Navy?"

"No we aren't. Was he meeting old Navy buddies tonight?" Chuck asked.

"He did say he was hoping to run into them."

"Thank you Dr. Lewis. You didn't happen to get this gentleman's name did you?"

"Frank. He asked us to call him Frank. I assume his last name is Lancaster."

"Thank you doctor. You have been a great help," Chuck lied.

Chuck, Devon and Morgan headed out of the Red Room and started back down the hall to the maitre de's station. As they left, Morgan thought he saw something through the windows out near the valet station. "You guys go ahead, I'll wait out front."

It had been years since Morgan had the Intersect, but there were times he thought he remembered much more than was anyone who understood the science would think was possible. This was one of those times.

Morgan took a hallway that led straight outside and he saw two men carrying Alex into a white cargo van.

"Stop right there," he ran to the van, almost imagining he flashed. When a third men stepped around the back of the van from the driver's side and stood up to Morgan, Morgan abruptly stopped, shifted his weight to his back foot, and pivoted as quickly as he could, catching the guy under the jaw with the heel of his foot. He fell back into the rear doors of the van, dazed. Meanwhile, the two men had loaded Alex into the side door, and while one of the men went around the front of the van toward the driver's side door, the second man faced off with Morgan.

This guy saw the kick coming and raised both forearms to block it. As he blocked the kick, he was able to knock Morgan slightly off balance. With the slightest push against Morgan's leg with this arms, the guy was able to send Morgan falling backwards. When he hit the ground, he immediately arched his back and planted both of his arms over his head. In him mind, he was going to spring back up and finish this clown off. In reality, the guy who had just finished putting Alex in the van was standing over Morgan getting ready to put his lights out with one downward stroke. And, that's exactly what he did.

As Chuck and Devon turned the last door prior to the lobby, a door sprung open in front of Chuck. He stopped immediately, but Devon ran into him – pushing him into the door.

"Chuck?"

"Sarah?"

"Ellie? Where's Alex?"

"I don't know. We were tied up in the basement." Sensing that maybe more explanation was necessary, she continued, "We were just beginning dessert when Alex was called away. When she didn't return we followed her. Before we knew it we were being held a gunpoint. That's when you called."

"I got your message and go here as soon as we could." Chuck was relieved to see Sarah and his sister, but now there was the problem of Alex.


	5. Chapter 4

_Just a few edits here to match some changes in III. I don't own Chuck._

Ellie, Devon, Chuck and Sarah walked out of the front doors of the country club.

"What happened to Morgan? He was going to wait for us out here," Chuck looked around.

"Right over here buddy," Morgan's hand came up from behind a line of shrubs.

"What happened to you? Oh man, that looks like it would hurt," Chuck winced a little and the redness and swelling starting under Morgan's left eye.

"Did you see the people that grabbed Alex?" Sarah stepped over the hedge.

"I saw them. They saw me." Morgan sat up. "Then, I kicked one of them and he fell. Then one of them hit me. And hit me. And... yea, one more time, hit me."

"What can you tell us about them Morgan? Think?" Sarah asked.

"Well, that last guy... he wasn't wearing a ring on his right hand or anything. I would have gotten a real good look at that." Morgan got to his feet. "Saw Alex." Tears were pooling in his lower lids. "They took her. White cargo van. That's all I know."

"It's not much to go on, but it isn't nothing either," Chuck said, trying to lift up his damaged little buddy. "We'll go back to Ellie and Devon's, pick up Emma and go home and see what we can get from surveillance cameras, traffic cameras. We'll find her."

Morgan, Chuck and Sarah piled into the Carmichael Suburban and followed Ellie and Devon back to their home.

"What I can't figure out is why Alex?" as she spoke, Sarah slowly shook her head. "The only one of us who has never been involved with the Intersect, Orion, the CIA or the NSA and they grab her. It doesn't make sense."

"There's too much here to assume it is some random attack. Whoever did this knew who he wanted and where she was," Chuck added.

"And how did they know we would be at the country club that evening. We didn't even know we would be there," Sarah turned the SUV into the gated community where Devon and Ellie lived. As Sarah pulled up to the tan brick French Storybook Style Country Revival that was Devon and Ellie's, the sight of Casey's Crown Victoria brought tears to her eyes.

"No one thought to call Casey?" asked Sarah. Morgan lifted his head long enough to see the car.

"I couldn't bring myself to tell him I lost his daughter," Morgan said.

"Morgan, she was with me when she disappeared. I'm responsible and I'll get her back," Sarah opened the SUV door and stepped out.

"_We'll_ get her back buddy. You don't really think there is a person alive that could hide her from Sarah, Casey and the Intersect, do you?"

"I guess not. No, of course not," he began perking up a bit now. "What am I worried about? The best former spy turned mother in the CIA, my best friend and the scariest father-in-law on the planet Earth. They better hope we don't find them." Chuck cocked his head to one side, knitted his brows and stared at Morgan for a second. "I don't have any idea what I'm saying anymore."

Casey was already out the front door and headed to Chuck and Sarah's SUV. "We don't have much time. Get what you need and let's move."

"What? How?" Chuck needed a little help here.

"It's my fault. I should have never used my own daughter to hide the chip. There will be time to explain on the road. You two geared up?" Casey opened the door the Crown Vic.

"No, only diaper bags and moist towelettes. We need to stop back at home first," Sarah said over Casey's eye roll growl.

"I've filled Frost in Chuck. She'll help Ellie and Devon watch the kids. Morgan, you should stay here too," Casey was not asking.

"No way. You're her father, so of course I respect you, well, that and all the guns, but a man needs to do what he can to save his wife."

"You two didn't get married before I got here did you?" Casey leveled a stare at Morgan.

"No sir."

"Good. Get in."

On the drive back to their home, Chuck and Sarah had a lot to talk over.

"Sarah, I know we promised that once Emma was born, we were done with the hands on spy stuff."

"I know."

"I mean, we can't afford to put ourselves," he paused searching for just the right word, "out...out there," he pointed nowhere in particular, "when we have our daughter waiting at home."

"Agreed. And I'm certain today would have gone down differently if I didn't hesitate when that guy pulled the gun on Ellie and me." Sarah's gaze seemed to fix on an invisible point somewhere down the road. "But I second guessed. I weighed the odds. I paused for just a second to think about Emma. That could be the difference between Alex and no Alex."

"So it is agreed?" Chuck looked at Sarah.

"Agreed."

Sarah turned to look at Chuck, and in unison they said, "No more hesitation."

"After all, Alex, Casey, Morgan – they are family. And no one messes with family. For Emma's sake, we play this like we did before she came along." Chuck looked back down the road.

"It's the only way we can be sure we will come back to our daughter alive," Sarah added.

Back at home Sarah threw together a bag. Casey hadn't said where they were going, so she had to do her best with clothing. A little of everything – and things she could layer. It was easier for Chuck – five shirts, five pairs of pants a few ties and two pairs of shoes. As they got ready, Morgan and Casey sat in the living room – silently.

"I have to head downstairs and button up a few things. It will only take a minute, then we can go," Chuck spoke as he dashed through the living room and down the stairs. Once in Castle, he summoned V.I.C.T.O.R..

"Yes Mr. Carmichael?"

"Victor, I need you to sync with my iPhone please. I will have to work remotely for a few days. Also, security protocol Alpha for the residence in five minutes."

"Understood. Anything else sir?"

"That should do it. Wish us luck Victor."

He knew there was no subroutine for luck wishing – not yet anyway – but it didn't mean he didn't want to hear it from someone. Back upstairs, Casey's hand was on the door handle. "You girls finally ready to go? We have plane to catch."

Chuck and Morgan threw the suitcases in the back of the black Chevy Suburban that technically belonged to Carmichael Industries. "Morgan, you drive, we're going to be briefing in the back," Casey directed Morgan to the driver's side. "Just set the GPS for O'Hare and drive – fast."

Once in the back of the SUV, Casey pulled out a tablet and brought up a schematic for a microchip. "This is the XV24 supercomputer. Although it is roughly the size of a grain of wheat, cutting edge nano technology makes it one of the most powerful computing devices on the planet."

Chuck leaned eagerly forward. He had heard buzz about this, but he wasn't sure that is was ever going to be more than some tech geek myth. He flashed.

"Three weeks ago, a Chinese businessman contracted with a turned MI-6 agent to lift this little beauty from Cranfield University where the finishing touches were being applied. Verbanski Corp. was contracted to provide security until this could be delivered to a joint assembly of computer scientists from the U.N.. Seven Verbanski agents were killed protecting this," Casey explained.

"Gertrude?" Sarah's hand fell to Casey's arm.

"No, she's fine. She's the reason the rat from MI-6 failed. She stopped him and held him for questioning. Turns out he was just the first wave designed to thin the herd. The second wave was on the way. Knowing they would try to catch and kill whoever tried to escape with the device, Gertrude took a contingent of remaining guards and formed a caravan to act as a decoy while I went to the airfield right next to the university carrying the XV24. There was a small plane waiting there, but I found a borrowed helicopter more convenient. Once in the air, I made it to the Shannon airport and from Shannon to L.A."

"I knew it was possible, however unlikely, that they might have tracked me, so I wanted to make sure if they did get me they wouldn't find the chip. What I didn't know was that you could track this thing. I found that out the hard way I guess," the muscles in Casey's jaw clenched.

"I called Alex up and arranged a movie night. I told her I had this chip and that I needed to put it somewhere until Gertrude could pick it up. She didn't hesitate." He paused, swallowed and continued. "I knew Gertrude would be here for the wedding, so I thought I could hand over the chip this weekend."

Morgan, hearing this, let his head sink slowly forward, all the time trying to navigate light Chicago evening traffic.

"Morgan. This is my fault. The men that took Alex better hope..." saying this aloud, Casey just stared into the side of the SUV. He considered the possibility that his actions may cost him his daughter.

This look did not escape either Chuck or Sarah. "Casey," Sarah said, quietly, calmly, "we will get her back."

"Casey, you are only half right about tracking this device," Chuck started slowly, trying to ingest everything he got from the flash. "The XV24 is programed to emit a tracking signal, but that signal constantly changes frequency. Unless you have the logarithm, you can only track the signal when you happen to be on the right frequency. They may know roughly where it is, but they won't be able to narrow to anything as specific as a locket."

"How often does it change and how many frequencies does it broadcast on?" Casey asked.

"Over 10000. And only for a few seconds on each frequency. And, because we have this," he tapped his head, "I should be able to use the logarithm to program my laptop to sync with it."

"Hopefully we aren't going to need it," Casey looked down at his phone. "Verbanski Corp. has sat tracking of three men carrying a woman to a van and taking the expressway to O'Hare. The Chinese businessman that bankrolled this calls himself Larry. He smuggles weapons, technology, anything bad guys might want, from his base in Nairobi. He's behind this and that's where they are taking Alex."

"Why not just search her here?" Morgan asked.

"They know the chip's small. For all they know it is injected subcutaneously or it's in a capsule working it's way through her system."

"Well," Chuck plunked away on the computer, "today there are only four commercial and two charters with filed flight plans that take them all the way to Nairobi. First charter leaves in five minutes."

"Well, they aren't going to try to drag a hostage on a commercial flight. Stop that charter we get Alex back," Sarah said. Morgan, hearing that, pushed the accelerator to the floor.

"I'll make a call, maybe I can get that plane grounded." Casey pulled out his phone.

"Morgan, get off the Kennedy at Mannheim Road and go north. The Signature lot is there. That's where the charters depart." Chuck pulled up charter flight information while Casey worked connections with Air Traffic Control. Morgan pulled the SUV hard right as they hit Mannheim. He sped north.

"No luck. They've already been cleared for takeoff." Casey pulled down his cell and hit speed dial. "We need the jet fueled and ready to get us to Nairobi, now."


	6. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: I greatly appreciate reviews. Please let me know what works for you here and what doesn't. I don't own Chuck._

The plane trip to Nairobi could very well have been the longest sixteen hour trip Casey had ever taken. For him, sitting and thinking about the consequences of his actions only deepened the pit of anger and regret burrowing in his chest. But there was a job to be done and any energy expended on worry was certainly energy wasted.

The Verbanski Corp. private jet was equipped with state of the art intelligence gathering technology and Casey and Sarah made the best of it. "Okay Walker, Larry, as the China-man refers to himself, bases his operations out of a slum just south of the center of Nairobi called Kibera." Casey brought up a picture of "Larry" on one monitor and a map of Nairobi on another. "Kibera, as the second largest slum in the world, provides Larry with ample lookouts, guards, henchmen and hovels and all at bargain prices. No one can enter Kibera without his knowing it. And with a nod of his head, he can make sure that same someone will never get out alive."

Casey took two fingers and re-centered and zoomed the map in on the region labeled "Kibera" on the map. The maze of tight twisting roads seemed to form veins through the brown and green scab of hovel roofs and garbage dumps.

"Best we can tell Larry has three main bases in the slum. One, in the far southeast corner, is close to the new U.N. Housing projects. According to a BBC News report I have here, the United Nations, some five or six years ago, targeted Kibera for reclamation. They began building high rise apartments, relocated the residents of the nearby corrugated metal and mud homes, then tore down the ten by ten houses to make room for more new construction. With a base this close to a new U.N. initiative my guess is it no longer exists. Our intel in this area is a little old."

"The second base is along the northern edge of the slum. One paved road runs east to west right across the northern end of Kibera. Since this is the only paved road to serve a community that numbers close to a quarter of a million people, the tax Larry can level on water, food, charcoal and other goods probably provides him with a very healthy revenue stream. It isn't, however, an ideal location to hide a valuable asset. Exposed on two sides, a paved road for easy access and escape. I can't imagine he would keep Alex there."

"The most likely place for Larry to hold someone would be his 'fortress' near the center of Kibera – right outside of and next to the walls of the Salvation Army retreat. Centrally located, it provides the most security and is commonly thought to be the location from which Larry issues most of his fiats. This looks like out likeliest target."

"Now, how to get in there?" Sarah said as she reached for a wrapped Subway sandwich and offered it to Casey.

"No, thanks."

"Take it. You have to eat." The strain of this mission had buried Casey's appetite under blankets of anger and fear. He took the sandwich and unwrapped it while Sarah grabbed one for herself.

"One thing's for sure, tension in the slum is sure to be high with such a valuable item inbound. We need a cover. Either that or we will have to shoot our way into and out of a slum of 250,000 people." Sarah handed Casey a soda which he opened and drank while still staring intently at the map. "Even if we come up with a plan, communicating it is going to be a trick. There aren't any road names and the maps of the area are outdated and sketchy at best. This will make it almost impossible to regroup if things go wrong. Building are constantly being erected or torn down so there are no dependable landmarks. There isn't even any guarantee that any of the roads on this map still exist."

"Okay, let's think. What kind of traffic does this area normally get?"

"White people? In the slum? None. Now, other Kenyans, sure. They could come and go all day. Water trucks, charcoal deliveries, meat, vegetables, fruit. We, unfortunately, are not Kenyan merchants," Casey raised the soda can again.

"Obviously, but we still need to find a way in that will allow us to get close to the camp without raising suspicions. I'm going to do a little more reading on this area, see if I can find a plausible cover. There's not much else we can do right now. Why don't you get some rest?"

"Walker, I've stayed up for 49 hours inside the walls of an Arab palace while waiting for a shot at a corrupt emir, I think I can sit in a jet and research a cover."

"Listen to me Casey. I have a daughter now too. This is not some random emir - this is Alex. We're going to need you at 100% tomorrow if we're going to have any hope of getting to her and getting her out safely. Take these," Sarah handed Casey two little pills, "and before we touch down in Nairobi I will have something figured out. I promise."

He knew she was right. He had been afraid of something like this all of his career. It's why he left Alex's mother in the first place. The commendations that Colonel John Casey had amassed in service to his country would fill a cabinet. Covert reconnaissance, assassinations, abductions, rescues. But, during all of those missions, the target was just a target. The objective, just a check mark on a sheet of paper. This was his little girl. He knew this was different.

He took the pills and fell asleep with the satellite map of Kibera in brilliant color on the screen in front of him. Sarah spread a blanket over his shoulders, picked up a tablet and reclined in a nearby chair to figure out their "in".

While Casey slept and Sarah sat reading, Chuck worked with V.I.C.T.O.R. on the Anderson International case. Creating V.I.C.T.O.R. made much of Chuck's cyber-crime detecting much easier. He was currently looking at what he called 'the green blob'.

"Hey buddy, whatcha lookin' at?" Morgan asked, staring at the blob.

"Morgan, this is the green blob. Green blob, this is Morgan."

"Nice, but what does it do?" he tilted his head to the left, then the right. It still looked like blob to him.

"This is the way Victor lets me automagically find leaks in a company's website," Chuck studied the blob as he spoke.

"Oh, of course. Now I see it." Then, after a minute of blob watching, "Okay, I give up. It's a blob. What does it tell you about anything?"

"Do you see this," Chuck pointed to a stream of red leaking from the blob, "and this," as he pointed to a bit of blue leakage.

"Yea..."

"Okay. Think of this blob as all of the information a site can hold. Prices, account numbers, inventory, customer data. Everything."

"Sure. The blob is stuff. Got it."

"Now, Victor fills the blob until it springs a leak. The leaks indicate different weaknesses in the site architecture. Red leaks are completely unsecured entries or exits, while blue leaks are relatively secure portals. Leaks can also be yellow or green or white. It all indicates different levels of risk. Instead of me testing and retesting elements of the site architecture, Victor does most of the grunt work for me automagically. Nice eh?"

"Great Dr. Venkman. I will leave you to your slime monster. I'll just go over here and put ice on my eye."

"Sorry buddy. I wish we could hang for a while before the big mission, but duty calls."

"That's okay. Maybe I should have listened to Casey and just stayed home and watched the kids," Morgan slouched in the chair.

"No way. You watch - we're going to really need you before this mission is over," Chuck said. He thought he saw Sarah's eyes rise up in his direction, but if they did, she pulled them back down before he could catch her. He knew what her look meant. He thought it too. Morgan was going to be a liability. But, it wasn't that long ago Casey and Sarah thought of Chuck in the exact same way and now look at him. "Get some sleep buddy, it's going to be a big day tomorrow."

The plane landed in London to refuel for the last eight hour leg to Nairobi. Prior to landing, between website security analysis and occasional cat naps, Chuck called ahead to get some food brought to the plane. Gordon Ramsey's Plane Food prepares some quasi-gourmet meals to go for people departing from London. For an extra few Euros, they were happy to bring it out to the private plane terminal.

"Alright crew, I got us some high class grub here. Don't forget, an army runs on its stomach," Chuck handed the boxed dinners. Casey and Morgan ate in relative silence. Chuck and Sarah took their meals to the front two rows. Here the first row of tan leather chairs faced backward and there was a table between this row and the next row. Instead of candlelight, Chuck turned on one directional reading light and they sat over the boxed food, facing each other in the leather, the light and the darkness.

"Well, this is... nice," Sarah smiled. "Under different circumstances, one could almost call this romantic." She was careful to speak quietly so Casey and Morgan wouldn't hear.

"Sarah? Is it wrong that part of me is really looking forward to this?" his head was tipped down toward his food, but his eyes looked straight up to hers.

"No, of course not. I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little excited about being back in the field. We were good at this," she slid her hand over his.

"Yes, we were. But you have to admit, we were lucky too. A lot of times actually." He took out his iPhone and flipped to a slideshow of Emma. He propped it against a book on their dinner table. The plane had departed for Nairobi. Chuck could hear the wheels retract. He looked back to Casey and Morgan. Their food was half eaten and they were both asleep. When he looked back to Sarah her eyes were fixed on the images of her little girl and tears streamed down her face.

"I never thought I would love anything so much," Sarah didn't try to stem the flow of tears. Chuck remembered how she used to run from real feelings. What is it Casey said? "Sweat is pain leaving the body, but tears water your weakness." Sarah used to live by that too although she never said it. The beauty of this moment, of the mother of his child so vulnerable, it made him tear up as well.

"Chuck, we have to help Casey get Alex back, but then I'm done," she was near sobbing now. "I can't be away from her anymore. Especially if there's a chance one," Sarah paused, inhaled sharply, "or both of us won't make it back."

"I've been thinking about that. Maybe it's time we came full circle on the mission thing."

"What do you mean?" she pulled her eyes from the slide show and looked fully into Chuck's.

"When we first started on missions, you always wanted me to wait in the car or stay in the apartment or sit in the van."

"Yea, but you never did," her eyes managed to crinkle again into a teary smile.

"I know. But I think - if I knew then how you felt. The Intersect made me something valuable and rare. The only one in the world. If anything happened to me, no one could replace what would be lost."

"You know, the Intersect wasn't the only reason I wanted you safe. Even back then."

"Well, I now finally understand what you felt. Sarah, you're my life. If I lost you," he looked at the pictures of Emma, "if she lost you." Chuck inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly and looked right into Sarah's eyes. "Nothing on Earth could every replace who you are for me."

"Emma needs her father too..."

"Yes, but not the way she needs you. Sarah, look." He picked up the iPhone and flipped to the picture he took of Sarah and Emma yesterday morning. "She doesn't need me like she needs this."

Chuck moved over to the seat next to Sarah. They pulled a blanket over themselves. Sarah wrapped her arms around Chuck, put her head on his chest and cried until she fell asleep.


	7. Chapter 6

_Thanks to those of you that have read and reviewed the previous chapters. I appreciate your feedback. When I finally finish some time next week, I will have to go back and do a full re-write. I am hoping to use your comments in that process. I do not own Chuck._

Sarah woke to the sound of Chuck's breathing. She closed her eyes again thinking that if she could just pretend to sleep, she could make everything they would have to do today go away. But, the longer she lie there the more obvious it became that if she didn't have a cover for the team, today could go very wrong very quickly. She slid her arm out from behind Chuck and slid out from under his. She tucked the blanket back where her body had been and went back to a terminal at the back of the plane. _Okay __Walker__, _she thought, _let__'__s __get __to __work __on __this __cover_.

Chuck awoke some time later. After stretching and grabbing a soda, he walked back to Sarah. Hands on her shoulders, the kissed the top of her head.

"Morning," Sarah said curtly, "I think I've found our cover. We have about two hours until touchdown. I'll wake Casey and Morgan in about an hour and we can go over the details." Chuck was not surprised or disappointed in this shift in her mood. More like relieved.

"Alright Mrs. Bartowski. While you put the finishing touches on our new pretend life, I'm going to have a seat and see if I can keep our real business afloat." Sarah looked away from the screen just long enough to smile, then returned her focus to the mission.

Chuck flipped open his laptop and examined V.I.C.T.O.R.'s green blob analysis of Anderson International. A single thick red line gushed from the image. Not only did Chuck program V.I.C.T.O.R. to detect breaches in online security, but he wrote a subroutine that allowed V.I.C.T.O.R. to fix these breaches as well. All of the minor leaks were gone, but the main threat grew considerably. This had never happened before. Chuck grabbed pair of headphones and started to work.

An hour hadn't quite passed when Casey's eyes snapped open. He looked around as though it took him a minute to ascertain exactly where he was. It all came back to him in an instant.

"Okay Walker, what's the plan?" he sat up and strode over to the seat next to her.

"I've made a few calls, placed a few stories in the local paper and arranged all transportation in-country. I have some documents to print, then I'll be ready to brief the team."

"Great. Briefing in ten then?"

"Affirmative Colonel."

Casey stood up and headed to the head for a Navy Shower and change of clothes.

As the lights came up in the cabin, Morgan opened one eye, closed it, then opened the other eye and closed it. After a long stretch, he finally opened both eyes and scratched his head with both hands. "Oh man, I really slept. Nothing tires a guy out like getting punched in the face and losing his fiancee." He looked down at the floor, interlocked the fingers of both of his hands behind his head and squeezed. "Tell me we have a plan Sarah."

"Of course we have a plan Morgan. And, if things go according to plan, we should be back on this plane with Alex inside of twenty-four hours."

"Fine, okay... Wait, 'if things go according to plan?' Since when does anything 'go according to plan?'"

"Sometimes," and after a beat, "this time." Sarah went over and sat in the chair next to Morgan. "Morgan, we all have a lot riding on this mission. You have to promise me you're going to do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you - no questions."

"Come on Sarah. I'm no rookie here. You've seen me in action. I know how this works. Frankly, I'm a little surprised you think this little talk is necessary."

"Can I be honest with you Morgan?"

"You have to ask? Of course. I'm a pro."

"I have serious reservations about having you on this mission. Not only are you too close to the subject, you are not now, nor have you ever been, a covert operative. I know you were able to play one a few times, but frankly, if you weren't Chuck's best friend, you would be in Chicago right now."

"Whoa. Sarah. I mean, you don't have to pull any punches here. How do you really feel?" he looked down. Then he slowly lifted his head up, looked her straight in the eye and spoke very softly and very deliberately, "Sarah. This is Alex. If she doesn't come back from this mission, I don't come back. I know I may not have much training, but nobody wants her back safely more than me. Not you, not Chuck, not Casey." He leaned in closer and continued. "I know you have her best interests at heart as well, so I will excuse your opinion of me, but Chuck or no Chuck, there's no way I would have stayed back in Chicago," he punctuated this speech by staring directly into her eyes.

"Okay Morgan. I understand. Just remember, you do what I say, when I say it," Sarah stared right back.

"Understood."

"Good. Morgan?"

"Yes?"

"Could you please do something for me right now?" Sarah asked. Morgan offered one slow nod. "Please go and brush your teeth."

He leaned back quickly eyes widening a little as he snapped his right hand up to this mouth. "Oh gosh. Yea, umm... you're right. Nothing worse than morning breath. Especially after the dinner. I mean, I like raw onions as much as the next guy, but these were... well I guess you know."

"Just go brush, we brief in ten."

Sarah arranged folders for each of the team members. Dossiers of the major players, fake passports, cover stories - everything they would need to infiltrate the slum without raising any suspicion. After straightening the folders one more time, she looked over to Chuck. She recognized the look - knitted brow, pursed lips, squinty eyes. There was a problem. And, if she could still read his face well, it was a big one. She walked over and slid one earphone off. "Everything okay honey?"

"Sarah. Umm. Yea," but he didn't take his eyes off the screen. "I mean, no. Well, I'm not sure. I've been trying to repair the Anderson International site - they are an intelligence and surveillance company that hired us just before we had to leave. Man, whoever is after them is buried deep."

"Well, I'm sure if anyone can help them, it's you." The attempt at encouragement fell on deaf ears.

"Right. Yea. Uh huh," he leaned into the screen a little closer. "But this is what really has me concerned. You should see this. Here," he pointed to the screen. "This is the CEO of Anderson International. He was a former diplomat, and one of his posts was right here in Nairobi."

Sarah read the bio from the company website. "Okay. I'm sure there've been plenty of diplomats here over the years. What troubles you about this one."

"Well, here's were it gets even more interesting. I keep running across the name Tommy Delgato. See, right here," he pointed to a window, closed it and opened another, "and here and here. He's been a consultant, client, source. He's all over the place in here."

"Wait, Tommy Delgato - Fulcrum agent?"

"That's what I don't know for sure. His CIA file is suspiciously incomplete. From what I can tell, after his arrest about seven years ago, he has been almost forgotten, but when we was active he was the closest thing to an expert on the Intersect that the CIA has."

"Right. He was working to develop a version for Fulcrum, wasn't he?"

"He was working with Bryce on it. According to his psych evaluations while incarcerated, he was a bit obsessed with pursuing and possessing the Intersect. Something about overcoming feelings of inadequacies. Man, when we saw him he seemed to have taken care of any inadequacies. He nearly killed me."

"Okay, so what is the connection between Anderson International and Tommy Delgato?"

"I don't know." He stopped typing and took the headphones completely off, set them on the table and turned to look at Sarah. "And it'll have to wait. This obviously takes priority. Look at this," he took his iPhone out of his pocket. "I have an Alex finder. I used the algorithm for the chip frequency modulation to program this iPhone to lead us to Alex. I even used her face as the icon for the app. See?" He held the phone closer to Sarah so she could get a good look. Sure enough, there was Alex's smiling face.

"Great Chuck. That should help us get close to her once we're in." Casey and Morgan entered and made their way to their earlier seats.

"Alright Walker, what's the plan?"

Sarah pulled up a map Kibera on each of the monitors in the cabin. "Okay, here's the slum. Basically, there are two ways in and two ways out if we're in a vehicle - Kibera Drive right here runs east into the slum and west back out of it," an arrow appeared on all of their monitors. "Larry's command post is right here," another arrow, "and there is a Salvation Army facility immediately adjacent," third arrow.

"Turns out this Salvation Army post frequently takes in children from the surrounding community, feeds them, lets them play a little and offers them some basic schooling. Due to the economics of the area, the Salvation Army is constantly inviting teachers and contributors in to take a look at the program, meet the instructors and the children and get a look at the facilities. What you are looking at here gentlemen are four grade school teachers from Indiana who are coming to work with the teachers and tour the compound inside Kibera."

"Wow Casey, a dream come true. Elementary school teacher," Chuck smiled.

"Hey, little kids love me."

"Why can't I get the image of Arnold from _Kindergarten__Cop_ out of my head?" Morgan chimed in.

"At least I graduated the 3rd grade moron."

"Hey, I graduated 3rd grade," Morgan said.

"The first time?" as Casey said this, Morgan's head drooped.

"My mom didn't believe in social promotion."

"Anyway, if you look at the magnification, the wall here is a common wall between the Salvation Army and Larry's compound. And this building right here, which I think is the church, buts right up against that wall. That should provide us with ample cover to find a way over, under or through that wall."

"Nice work Walker."

"According recent satellite images, Larry's compound is only four building - these four right here. Of the four, the largest is the one Larry uses as part-time residence and command HQ. If he has her, she will be there. Chuck has finished an app that uses the algorithm key to track the chip. If she still has the chip, this app will lead us right to her."

"What do we do once we find Alex and the chip?" Chuck asked.

"Well, that's going to depend. Ideally, we can slip in undetected, get Alex and the chip and slip right back into the SA facility. From there, back into the bus and back to the plane."

Casey grunted, "And if not?"

"I have rendezvous points marked on each of your maps. We will all have comms. If things go sideways, listen on the comm for the appropriate rendezvous point. If that fails, fallback to the plane."

"Questions?" The men all looked down at their papers in silence. "Good. Now, here's the last thing, and Casey I believe you're probably going to have the hardest time with this, but it's non-negotiable. We are all tranq gun on this."

Casey looked up, forehead creased.

"There are going to be children everywhere. And most of the men that work for Larry are locals who don't have many other ways to feed their family. I will not have the children jeopardized or these men killed. Is that clear Colonel?"

"Crystal," Casey snapped. While he was going to bring a sidearm and live ammunition, he wasn't opposed to limiting gunplay. There was, after all, another child in there he didn't want to see killed.

"Okay, it's peak of the rainy season right now, but it looks like we have caught a bit of a break. No rain today and temperatures in the mid to high 70's," Sarah concluded.

"Sounds like a perfect day to rescue my girl," Morgan said.


	8. Chapter 7

_Author's note. I spent time this past summer in Kenya. Had to use it in the story. Thanks for indulging me. Action next chapter - promise. I don't own Chuck._

Stepping onto the runway at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi, Kenya, Sarah led the the team to the terminal for recent arrivals. Security in emerging world countries wasn't nearly as tight as in the States. That, and the fact that they just stepped off of a rather impressive private jet, allowed them to sail right through immigration by simply flashing their fake passports. In doing so, they passed a very long line of passengers from various commercial airliners waiting to have their retina scanned, fingerprints taken and entry visas stamped.

Travelling down the brown carpeted hallway, signs directed them to the arrivals gate. Velvet ropes created a corridor around which thronged dozens of Kenyans waiting to pick up friends, relatives and business associates. Most of the men wore simple suit jackets and slacks, while the women wore brightly colored dresses. Some held cardboard signs labeled in black magic marker with last names of passengers they surely wouldn't recognize.

After making their way through the opening at the end of the ropes, the team could get a better look at the arrivals area. They came out at the center of a long wide hallway that looked much like the malls back in the states. The center exit was only about twenty feet in front of them. To their right and left, the hallway stretched a good sixty to seventy feet each way. Storefronts for convenience stores, currency exchanges, cell phone providers and magazine stands lined either side of the hallway.

"Our transportation should be standing by, I'll look for him," Sarah said.

"Great. I'm going to head over to the ATM and get some local currency," Morgan accompanied Chuck to get money, leaving Casey standing by himself. He walked over to the nearest convenience store an appeared to window shop. He was, in reality, watching the people behind and around him with the aid of the reflective glass.

Chuck slid a Carmichael Industries Platinum card into the slot of the automatic teller machine located near the center entrance. As he waited for the prompt to enter a pin, he looked to his left and got his first glimpse of Nairobi. Four large palm trees were evenly spaced across a parking lot filled with cars and vans - most more than ten years old, with the occasional shiny new Honda or Toyota dotted throughout. So far everything, the lot, the terminal, the arrivals area, were all much smaller than he anticipated. A series of beeps from the teller machine returned his attention to the screen in front of him. "Card Declined" flashed repeatedly on the small green screen.

"What? I don't understand?" Chuck turned a helpless look on Morgan.

"Chuck, buddy. If times have been tough, you should have said something. You've left me pretty flush as co-owner and manager of the Buy More. I certainly could have spotted you some cash if you and Sarah were having trouble."

"But that's just it, we pay that card off every month. I... I don't..."

"Come on Chuck, it's me, Morgan. You probably don't remember, but it wasn't that long ago I was in your same situation. I know all I would have had to do was ask and you would have helped me out as well. Here move over."

Morgan inserted his plastic, a rewards card with the image of a certain cartoon mouse emblazoned on it, and punched in his code. "There we go buddy. Now, how much do we want?"

"Well, what are our choices?"

"Whoa, Chuck... 1,000, 2,000, 4,000, 6,000 or 8,000. Hey, I know I said I'd help, but I think 8,000 anythings is going to break the Bank of Morgan," Morgan reached for the 'cancel' button.

"Morgan, it's okay," Chuck reached out to stop his hand. "I think the exchange rate is something like 80 to 1 here."

"Oh, so it's only like a thousand dollars? Okay. Hmm, that's still a little steep."

"Try 100 buddy," Chuck pressed the button and 8,000 KES counted out below. "Don't worry, Carmichael Industries will get you back as soon as I can figure out what is going on with this account."

"No hurry dude. Hey, there's Sarah. I'll go get Casey."

Sarah was standing outside of a white Toyota van, much like the ones typically used on safari. It was the size of a standard Toyota mini-van, but the roof latched in six places and could be lifted off and secured by four poles. This way passengers on safari could stand up and get a 360 degree view of the landscape as their driver took them into the bush. Two Kenyans stood outside the van talking with Sarah. One man, Chuck assumed he was the driver, wore a red windbreaker with a blue polo underneath and khaki slacks. The other man wore a dark blue business suit with a light blue shirt buttoned all the way up and no tie. The jacket looked like it was about a size too big and hung slightly off the tall slender Kenyan's frame. As he walked over to the van, the Kenyan in the suit flashed him a wide enthusiastic smile revealing bright white teeth. Handshake turned to hung, "Hello my brother. It is so nice to see you. My name is Jonathan, and I will be the one leading you around for the next week or so."

"Jonathan, nice to meet you. I am Charles Carmichael, I teach fifth grade and MacArthur Elementary school."

"Ah, yes, yes. It is so very nice to have you here in Kenya. Have you ever been to my country before?"

"My first time."

"Well, it is very beautiful. You will love it here. I think I see your other two friends coming this way." Morgan and Casey walked up to the van. Each was greeted with the same flash of bright white teeth and the same warm hug. While Morgan seemed to embrace the embrace, Casey, predictably, stiffened.

"This is Andrew, he will be our driver. Is the rest of your luggage still in the airport?" Jonathan asked.

"Nope, this is it," each person had one black college style backpack. "We like to travel light," Sarah said.

"Ah, very well, very well. Okay. Well, you must be fatigued from the trip. If you would like, we could take you the retreat so you could unpack and freshen up a bit."

"That won't be necessary. We are very eager to begin working with your children and teachers. Do you think we could go right to the Salvation Army?" Sarah asked.

"Ah, very well. Yes. That can be arranged. I will have to call to make sure the teachers know we are coming."

Everyone boarded the mini-van and Andrew had them out on the expressway in minutes as Jonathan spoke in Swahili on his cell phone. The airport is just south and east of the center of the city. The expressway they were on would take them west, while staying south of the city center. As it was Monday morning by the time they arrived (with time zones they lost a day) the highway was clogged with morning traffic. For nearly twenty minutes the van crawled at 5 mph.

"Is traffic always this bad?" Chuck asked.

"Yes, it is quite bad in the mornings. Many people are on their way to work. We should be to the Salvation Army by 8am.

"Chuck, Morgan, do you see those vans with the writing on the side?" Sarah pointed to a mini-van just a little smaller than the one they were in that was filled with close to fifteen people. As a matter of fact, the more they looked around, the more of these vans they saw. Most were brightly decorated and many had Bible verses painted on the hood or doors. "Those are Matatus - Kenyan buses. If you get lost or stranded just hop in one of these. Most of the drivers speak some English."

"Careful though," Jonathan said, "even though they are all supposed to have seat belts and speed regulators, many operators have found ways around these rules."

As long as they were on the expressway, Nairobi looked much like any other city. It wasn't until they were off the expressway and onto the smaller streets that surrounded the city center that Nairobi began to take on a more unique character. Along the sides of the road vendors had hand crafted small wooden stands selling cell phones, roasted corn, clothing and, of course, cola. About every half mile a bright red stand with white lettering advertised the carbonated beverage. The further out of the city they got, the more stands lined the road. Men walked down the side of the road pushing wooden carts. These carts, like wheel barrows but with a flat bed instead of steep sides, lined both sides of the road: some empty, some filled with lumber and still others with five gallon yellow plastic containers for water.

Every quarter mile or so in the ditches on the side of the road, a pile of garbage would smolder. The air was filled with this burning smell. Not unpleasant necessarily, more like charcoal than garbage, but nevertheless this burning smell pervaded.

As they got a little further out they passed a number of furniture stores, their handcrafted furniture sitting along the side of the road out front of the workshop. Men, some elderly and others quite young, worked out in front of the shop, shaping natural woods into beautiful bed frames, dressers and wardrobes.

The side road they turned onto was horribly maintained. Giant potholes, some almost five feet around and one foot deep, forced the driver to take the van deep into the shoulder. The forty-five degree tip of the van apparently preferable to losing a tire or bottoming out the suspension in the enormous craters that dotted the road. More than once, the driver would go all the way over to the shoulder on the opposite side of the road (left in this case, as they drive on the right) to make his way without unnecessary damages.

The road rose to the crest of a hill. As they reached the top they could finally see Kibera. The entire slum ranged in front of them, set on the side of a gentle slope. Below hundreds of thousands of people went about their lives raising children, looking for work, sweeping the dirt in front of the house with homemade straw brooms.

On either side of the road directly in front of them lay a giant trash dump. "This dump is too large to burn so some children from the slums dig around in the garbage looking for something they can eat or clean up and resell," Jonathan said. As the bus drove deeper into Kibera, many of the children looked up from their foraging. Some waved while others just went back to work.

Just past the garbage dump they entered what looked like a small town. Ten by ten buildings packed right next to each other, most of them made of corrugated tin or wood. Butcher shops, produce stands, cell phone stores and plenty of charcoal dealers advertising their goods filled the small storefronts. Chuck noticed a sign for a hotel, and couldn't help to wonder what a hotel room in a ten by ten foot building would look like.

"Just up ahead we will turn down a dirt road. Then we will be in Kibera proper," Jonathan said. A narrow road, just barely wide enough for the van, became visible between two businesses. At this turn, the road went from paved to heavily rutted dirt with a deep ditch that ran down both sides. Many homes and businesses had crude wooden planks set across the miniature rivers of water and waste to make for easier access to their stores. Here, smaller versions of the roadside garbage fires of the outskirts of Nairobi sent wisps of smoke into the air.

"We have to be very careful here," Andrew, the driver, spoke. "When people see the van, they immediately think it is full of rich Europeans. They will push their children in front of the van as it goes by and wail and demand you pay them so their child can receive treatment from a doctor. If I go very slowly and watch very carefully, this is not possible."

As the van continued slowly deeper into Kibera, many residents stared in through the windows. For others, the presence of the van merited nothing more than a brief look up and then they simply carried on with their day. After taking two different forks in the road, the van came up to the gates for the Salvation Army camp.

Two guards stood outside the gate. They were unarmed, but carried themselves as men chosen to protect a very valuable commodity. Unlike the crowded nature of the rest of the slum, the area inside of these gates was actually quite spacious. A large courtyard, shaded by a large tree, provided ample room to park the van. A barracks for workers was located in the far left corner. Nearer to them, and also on the left, was the church. This would be the focus of their mission. The breach point would have to occur here.

Straight ahead of them, in a blue roofed building labeled "Community Hall" the newcomers could hear children singing at the top of their lungs. The four walked down to the hall and looked in through the bars on the windows to see two young Kenyan men leading praise songs before a room of nearly 150 children ranging in age from two to fifteen. The room was alive with bouncing heads, bright smiles and the choreography provided by the two leaders. Sarah turned to Chuck and watched him watch the children with the smile spreading slowly across his face. She couldn't help by smile at the joy of the children as well.

"This is sweet and all, but Morgan and I are going to scout the wall and see if there is a clear way in or out," Casey growled.

"Here, take this," Chuck handed Casey his iPhone. "We should be plenty close enough to pinpoint Alex and the chip. We'll be over in a few minutes. For now, we are going to work our cover."

Morgan and Casey walked over to the workers' barracks and tried to move inconspicuously along the wall. It became clear that getting in would be no problem. Over the years, the barrier between the two camps had developed a series of gaps. Most large enough for even John Casey to slide through.

Casey fired up the Alex App and waited for a signal. Nothing. It was possible they arrived here before her captors. Casey and Morgan chose a place in the shade alongside the church and sat down.

Jonathan walked up to Chuck and Sarah. "Where did your two friends go? Wouldn't they like to meet the children?"

"Like to? Try to keep them away! They're both crazy about kids. It's just that the plane ride has take a little out of them, so they thought it best to get out of the sun and relax so they can be fresh once the singing is over," Chuck said.

"That sounds like a very good idea. Would you two like to go inside and meet the children?"

"Certainly," Sarah smiled to Jonathan.

The hall was about fifteen feet wide and twenty-five feet long. The song was finished and the children all sat down. Rows of benches accommodated them, although some of the older children held the younger children on their laps. Jonathan motioned to the four empty chairs at the front of the room. "Please, have a seat." Then to the children, "Hello children."

"Hello Mr. Jonathan," the children responded in unison.

"We have very special guests here today from America. Do you all know where America is?" Jonathan asked.

"Yes," again in unison, with a few stragglers.

"And do you know who the President of America is?"

"Barack Obama," again in unison.

Sarah leaned over to Chuck and said, "He's Kenyan. Very popular here."

"Well, Charles and Sarah are both from America too. Can you welcome them?"

At once all of the children began to wave and offer their enthusiastic greetings to the couple.

Jonathan came over to Chuck. "Charles, would you like to introduce yourself to the children?"

"Sure." Chuck got up. "Hello guys. My name is Charles Carmichael, but you can all call me Chuck."

"Hello Chuck."

"I live in Chicago, which is right in the middle of the United States. I am very excited to be in your country and to meet all of you." He waved and went back to sit down as Sarah got up.

"Hello children, I'm Sarah."

"Hello Sarah."

"Chuck here is my husband, and he and I have one beautiful daughter named Emma. We heard your beautiful singing from outside the window and we wanted to come in and learn some of your songs. Do you think you could teach us a song?" Chuck knew what kind of heart beat inside his wife. He knew how much she had given to have Emma, to be a wife to him. He also knew how difficult it was for her to go from hardened spy to loving mother. To see her in front of this room, she simply beamed. Here, with these innocent, impoverished children, Sarah could let her guard down completely.

A single little girl in the second row, maybe about seven years old, raised her hand. Her dress, yellow with white ruffles, looked freshly washed and heavily worn. Her hands and feet were dusty, but not dirty. "Yes honey," Sarah pointed to her.

"I can teach you a song."

"I would love that sweetie. What is your name?"

"Margaret," she said - more to the ground than to Sarah.

"That is a beautiful name for a very beautiful little girl. If I come sit by you, will you help me learn the song?" Sarah couldn't stop smiling.

"Yes." As Sarah sat on then bench next to Margaret, Kevin, one of the two young men who led the group began to teach them another song, complete with hand motions. Margaret paid special attention to Sarah, moving her hands for her if she fell out of sync.

Then they all stood and tired out their new song. The music rose to the ceiling, flooded out the windows and seemed to fill the entire compound. During the choruses, some of the older girls would fill in with harmonies to accentuate the melody. As the song came to an end, the room erupted in applause. Margaret hugged Sarah tightly.

"Okay children," Kevin said. "It is time for the morning meal. The older children will please remain here as the younger children are excused to line up."

Very quickly, but without hardly any pushing and shoving, the children ran out the front door and lined up in front of a door near the rear of the hall. Chuck and Sarah followed them outside. An older girl stood at the front of the line with a pitcher of water. As each child made his or her way to the front of the line, she poured water on their hands so they could wash up. Then each child received a different colored plastic mug full of hot porridge. They took the cup and found a place in the grass under the large tree to have their breakfast.

Once the younger children had been served, the older children came out of the hall and went to a spigot out back of the hall to wash their hands before also getting in line for a cup of porridge.

Afterward there were games, jump rope, singing and dancing. Casey and Morgan, sitting some ways off against the church, were targeted by five little boys. The walked over and pulled them up off the ground. They had fashioned a makeshift soccer ball out of an old bag and some tape. Morgan looked at Casey, threw his hands up in a shrug and started playing soccer with the boys. Reluctantly, Casey joined. In five minutes the hulking NSA agent was completely absorbed in the game. It ended with Morgan tripped, fell and took Casey with him. All of the boys piled on laughing.

After close to an hour of games, singing and dancing in the shady courtyard, the children were ushered back into the hall for more lessons.

Just then, the iPhone Casey held began to beep.


	9. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: I just want to thank all of you that have reviewed this for all of the great comments. I really appreciate you taking time to respond to this piece. I don't own Chuck._

Chuck heard the beeping and walked over to Casey and Morgan. "She's within fifty yards."

"I think I could have figured that out on my own genius. Let's go get her," Casey tossed the phone to Chuck and headed to the van to gear up with Morgan in tow.

"Casey, wait," Sarah intercepted him. "Let's cover all of our bases, I don't want any unnecessary bloodshed here."

"Bloodshed? I thought we were just using tranq guns?" Chuck asked.

Casey wheeled around to face him, "Hello Bartowski. I'm John Casey. I don't think we've met yet," Casey turned back, stepped around Sarah and headed to the van. "I'll start with tranqs, but I can't imagine I am going to finish with them."

Casey slid open the side door and flipped up the middle seat. He grabbed the bag in the back of the van and headed into the church, Morgan striding purposely behind him. Jonathan came over to Chuck and Sarah. "Is everything okay? Is there something I can do to be of assistance?"

"Is there anyone in the church right now?" Sarah asked.

"I believe it is empty. All of the classes are held in the community hall during the week."

"Would it be okay if my friends and I went in there for a few minutes alone to meditate?" Sarah continued.

"Certainly. Yes, that would be fine. If you would like, I could have Andrew take us back to the retreat. You would have much more privacy there."

"That's very kind, but this will be fine. We'll be out in a few minutes." Sarah grabbed her bag from the van, slid the side door shut and she and Chuck headed into the church.

Casey had already strapped on two tranq guns, one to each hip, and a one silenced Colt 1911 under each arm in shoulder holsters. On the back of his belt, Casey hung an Army Ranger knife. The threw a lightweight dark windbreaker over the entire arsenal. Morgan took the last remaining tranq gun from Casey's bag and tucked it into his waistline.

"Casey, I'm serious - no one dies unless there is absolutely no other way. Understand?" Sarah unpacked her bag. Two tranq guns for Chuck, two for her and a silenced Grandmark K100 .19mm with two extra nine shot clips. She also covered all of this under a lightweight dark windbreaker.

Chuck just looked at her with knit eyebrows. A mix of confusion and disapproval.

"Chuck, you know as well as I do, it's better to have it and not use it than to need it and not have it." Her eyes turned cold, her gaze steady, her jaw set.

"No hesitation," Chuck said to her.

"No hesitation," Sarah confirmed.

Chuck took out his phone and pretended to consult the Alex app, but instead he called up the picture he took three days ago of Sarah and Emma. He loved that Sarah, but right now the team needed this Sarah. He hadn't seen this Sarah for so long, more than a year, that he wasn't entirely sure this part of her was still there. But, of course it was. As much as he tried to forget, he knew this woman had killed... what? Dozens? A hundred? More? Knives, poison, sniping, cold blooded assassination. It helped him to think that every person she killed deserved it, even if that wasn't true. That thousands of lives have been saved through her actions, but at what price.

Sarah opened a detailed map of this area on the altar in the front of the church. Morgan, Casey and Chuck stood on one side, Sarah on the other. "Here's the church and the walls of the Salvation Army compound. This will be our first option for exit. Casey, you and Chuck will wait for my signal," she handed out comms to each, "then you two will enter through the breach in the wall here." Sarah pointed to the wall right next to the church. "I will go to this back wall, slip over and head around the outside of Larry's compound. I'll come up this road here and right in through the front door. I am going to try to get as far as I can inside before I have to start taking out guards. As soon as I drop the first guard, I'll signal you. Ideally, we can get right up to Alex before any shooting starts."

According to the map, the compound was almost a perfect rectangle. The wall it shared with the Salvation Army ran about 30 yards. The two side walls extended for close to 50 yards and a gate and pair of gate houses made up almost the entire 30 yard run at the front.

Sarah turned to Morgan, "Morgan, you're responsible for securing our exit."

"Oh, so I get to sit in the car. I should have guessed. No, no, that's fine. Maybe I could grab a broom or something to keep me busy until you guys get back."

"Listen to me Morgan, if we can't get out of here the entire operation falls apart. As soon as Alex hits this church you get her in the van and get the van out of here. If we're close, slow down a little and we'll jump on, but don't stop. Not for anything," she watched him closely to make sure these instructions had sunk in. "Oh, and you'll need this," she tossed a universal key to him. "It'll start the van. While we're inside, I need you to memorize this map. You have to know every possible way back to the main road."

"Got it. I'm your man."

"It's true. He is the only one I know whoever memorized every mob on every level of Diablo I and II." Sarah briefly tried to grasp the significance of this feat then stopped. She knew better by now. Instead she offered a quick smile and nod.

"One last thing," she paused steadied herself and continued, "We're working on the assumption that Alex still has the chip, but all we know for sure is that the chip's inside. If we find it, but no Alex, we have to make sure no one makes it out of this camp. We need to be able to hit the other outposts without running the risk of getting her killed." She took a moment to let that sink in, "Questions?"

"Negative. Let's roll," Casey headed for a side door of the church, Chuck and Sarah right behind. Sarah moved quickly to the back wall of the camp, slipped over the wall and disappeared.

In under a minute, Sarah had moved along the side wall and came out at the road that ran in front of the compound. As she stepped into the road she began looking around frantically. As she was the only white blond woman for miles. People took notice.

Sarah walked right up to the wooden gates of the compound and knocked on the right gate. A guard opened the gate just far enough to see the blond American clearly. She spoke to the guard. "Hi. Umm - do you speak English?"

"Yes," the guard answered. Apparently this guard had a partner who also wanted to get a look at the visitor because the gate opened about three times as wide now. It wasn't often a blond American knocked on the gate, and never had either man seen a blond that looked like Sarah. He and his partner were unarmed - dressed in ordinary slacks and shirt.

"Oh, good. Maybe you can help me? I am working at the church next door - with the Salvation Army," the man nodded slowly, "and I seem to have lost one of the little girls I was supposed to watch. About this tall, purple dress, hair in pony tails. She's the cutest little thing."

"Miss, if she lives here, she will be able to find her way home. I would not worry about her at all," he answered with a tone of dismissal in his voice.

"But you see, I gave her a beach ball, you know, one of those balls you inflate. Oh, you should have seen her face as I blew it up. Well, she and her friends were playing with it and I think it went over the wall and into your house here."

"I do not live here. I am the security guard."

"I understand, but if I could just come in and look for her."

"This is not a good time. You need to continue walking now. If we find her, we will send her back to the church."

"Okay, but I'm just so embarrassed. I was in charge of her and now she's missing. This is my first day here. I can't lose a little girl on the first day." As Sarah spoke, she craned her neck to look past the guard and into the compound. Just like the map indicated, guard house on either side of a the gate, one long house on the left and another long house on the right. Two cars were parked in front of the right house. At the very back of the compound, one low grey building ran from the right building half way along the wall. Sarah thought she could see the breach in the wall from here. It was right next to the side wall of the grey house.

Next, Sarah took a quick look to her right and left. The dirt road was fairly crowded with people. Too many people, but she had no option. "Wait! Is that her?" She pointed to the breach in the wall. Both guards turned to look. Sarah pushed her way through the gate. One guard reached for her arm. She squatted slightly, pulled him toward her and flipped him onto his back. She turned and kicked the gate closed just as the other guard reached toward her, trying to wrap his arms around her body. Sarah squared off with this guard, put her hands together, palms up fingers curled and thrust up and through his Adam's apple. She could feel the crack and heard the gasp as he clutched his throat. The other guard had turned to his side and was starting to get up. Sarah kicked him in the head with the heel of her hiking boot. She followed that with a swift strike with her open palm to his left temple. He collapsed in a heap.

Sarah flipped down the length of 2X4 that functioned as a lock on the gate and headed to the guard shack on the right. It was empty except for a walkie talkie. She quickly opened the back of the walkie and took out the batteries. Stepping out of the guard shack, she threw the batteries over the wall and ran to the building on the right.

When Casey and Chuck heard Sarah say "Wait" to the guard, they wasted no time sliding through the gap in the wall. They came out right next to the low grey house Sarah saw from the gate. Other than the two guards Sarah just dispatched, the compound looked empty. Casey motioned with his head for Chuck to check the long house on their right while he moved into low grey house. With tranq guns drawn, both men departed. Casey peeked into a window on the wall and looked into an empty room. He moved around to the front of the house and went in through the door.

Chuck moved to the long building opposite of where Sarah had run. When he got to the barred window, he saw three men with automatic weapons sitting around a table. One man wore a Pittsburgh Steelers Super Bowl XLV Champion cap. _So__, __that__'__s __where __the __extra __caps __go__._ _I __always __wondered __what __happened __to __the __caps __they __printed __for __the __losing __team__, _Chuck thought.

He ducked away from the window just as the man who sat facing him seemed to look his direction. Chuck stayed hunched down and moved around the corner to the door.

As long as it had been since he had seen the Sarah that just took out two guards, it had seemed even longer since he had flashed. The sensation started with the frontal lobe of his brain and ran like rocket lightning to his brain stem and from there right down his spine and right out his fingertips and toes. He burst through the door and moved left to right, one dart in the neck of each man before they could even slide their chairs away from the table. There was a single open door leaving this room. The ran to the wall next to the door and listened. He didn't hear anything, so he twisted 180 degrees and to his left as he entered the doorway and dropped to one knee. One dart into one man sitting with his back to Chuck at a computer. The door leaving this room was closed.

Chuck ran over to the computer and looked at the screen. Q*bert. _Really__, __Q__*__bert__?, _Chuck thought. _Hey__, __I __remember t__his __level__._

He moved to the next door and put his ear against the wood. Muffled voices, footsteps. Maybe five, maybe six. He holstered his right tranq gun and pulled the left one, switched it to this right, twisted the doorknob and thrust open the door.

He got one shot off before a man standing right next to the door disarmed Chuck with a swipe at his right had. _Darn__, __seven__ - __including __the __guy __I __dropped__, _Chuck thought. This room was twice the size of either of the other two. There were two couches on the right wall, two windows on the left wall. There was also a door on the left wall at the far end. A round wooded table and four chairs sat in the middle of the room.

First, Chuck kicked the man that disarmed him in the side of his right knee. His leg collapsed below him. Two men at the back of the room drew pistols and began firing at Chuck. He felt the searing pain in his right arm as a bullet sailed right past the upper part of Chuck's right arm. Just a scratch.

Two men who were sitting on the couch furthest from Chuck got up and went to the far right corner of the room for rifles that were propped up there. On Chuck's right, behind the door he just opened, sat a sink. At the sink, man who had just finished washing up. He turned to Chuck as Chuck advanced on him. He swung with his right for Chuck's head. Chuck parried the blow with his left forearm and delivered a blow right below the ribcage with his right hand. This blow paralyzed his diaphragm. As he gasped for breath, Chuck grabbed the man's right arm with his left and pulled the guard in front of him. The two men with pistols put three rounds in the guard. Chuck could feel the man's knees buckle. As the guard fell to the ground, Chuck had already drawn his other tranq gun with this right hand and put two darts into the two men with pistols and dove to the floor behind the table.

On his knees behind the table, Chuck flipped the table up and hid for a moment behind the tabletop. He heard two rifle bolts pull back and slam forward as each man put a round into the table top. These were bolt action rifles. Unless these two had practiced a lot, it would be a second or two between rounds.

Chuck heard the bolt slam forward again, so he kicked the chair next to him away to his right. Two rounds went into the chair, then Chuck popped up and put one dart each into the guards.

A right arm wrapped around Chuck's neck from behind and the guard's left arm came up to apply leverage to the right. The first guard had gotten up and limped over to Chuck and tried to squeeze Chuck's airway shut.

As Chuck began to lose peripheral vision , he stepped his left leg behind the right leg of his attacker and twisted this trunk to his left, driving his left elbow into the midsection of the attacker. Then, he opened his arm as he continued to twist his torso and shift his weight into the body of the attacker. The man lost his balance and his grip on Chuck's neck, and fell to the ground.

Chuck stood over him and drove a dart into his neck.

As Chucked walked over to the door at the opposite side of the room, he saw an open cell phone on the floor. When he picked it up he could hear a man shouting in Swahili on the other end.

"On second thought," Chuck said into the phone, "if you don't have pepperoni, you can just cancel the entire order." He flipped the phone closed, tossed it to the ground and walked into the courtyard. 

Meanwhile, Casey had slid through the door and into the long low grey building. Although the first room was empty, he could hear several voices in the next room. The door between rooms was open. He moved over to the wall next to the door and listened.

Two men were going back and forth in rapid Swahili, then one of the men began speaking in Chinese to a different man. This last man switched from Chinese to English.

"So glad you could join us here miss," the man articulated the words very carefully, but with a noticeable Chinese accent. "I came over just a soon as I heard you had arrived. I hope you have been treated well by my associates."

Casey could hear footsteps working their way back and forth across the floor.

"Now, it seems you have something that I have paid a lot of money to get. My little machine here tells me that it is in the room, but it can't tell me exactly where it is." A quiet beeping was now audible in the room. "It is unfortunate that the inaccuracy of this machine makes it necessary to resort to more barbaric methods to finally locate it," he set something down on a table. "You see dear, we don't know if this chip was injected somewhere under your skin, if you swallowed it, or if you just put it in your lipstick."

"Now, of course, you could just tell us and save us the trouble of hunting for it. But, if you were interested in being cooperative you wouldn't be here, would you?" It was right about here that Casey traded the tranq gun for the silenced Colt 1911. No one in that room would be walking out alive except Alex. Casey closed his eyes and tried to listen for any cues that might better inform him as to where his targets stood. If he could get a mental picture of the targets' approximate positions, it would make the whole thing quicker and cleaner. 

Sarah entered the long building on her right and moved quickly down a long hallway. There were a series of doors to her right. As there were no locks on any of the doors, Sarah assumed Alex couldn't be in any of them. By not opening any of the doors, Sarah could move quickly, but ran the risk of leaving plenty of guards in her wake who could block any possible move back out the front gates. Sarah could see a closed door at the end of the hall, about three quarters of the way through the building. She approached the door, pressed her ear against it for a second, _two_, she thought, and pushed the door into the room. A leg sweep and heel to the throat took care of the first guard. Two more guards, some nine feet away on either side of the room began reaching simultaneously for their guns. In one fluid motion, Sarah pulled both tranq guns and fired one dart into each man.

Just then Sarah heard four or five pistol shots from the house Chuck entered. She stepped to the door leading out of this house and paused to look back through the other doorway to see if any of the closed rooms opened. No one came out. When Sarah heard the next two shots, then the next two, she felt better. If they took him by surprise, the first shots would have been all she heard. The fact that there were more just meant that the Intersect was doing its job.

Sarah stepped into the courtyard just in time to see blood spatter against the windows of the grey house Casey entered. Chuck stepped out next. He was near the front gates, jogging down toward Sarah. He saw the blood on the windows as well. 

The sound of the shots coming from the building Chuck entered caused a great deal of concern in the room next to Casey. He could hear four sets of feet head over to the windows that looked out to the courtyard.

Casey swung out into the doorway, his frame filling the opening. He checked his left first. Once he saw that everyone was at the windows, he dropped each one with two shots of the Colt.

He exhaled, slowly lowered the pistol and looked to the chair in the middle of the room. There, gagged and bound to a chair, sat his little girl. She was still wearing his locket.

When she saw him, the tears came streaming down her cheeks. Her body shook with sobs. Casey put his hand to his ear, "Morgan, she's here and she's okay. We'll be over shortly."

Sarah got into the grey building in time to see Alex and Casey locked in a long embrace. Chuck came in right after. His eyes went first to the four dead bodies at the windows, then over to Alex and Casey. Father and daughter reluctantly separated and Casey kept his back to Sarah and Chuck for a few seconds. He blinked both eyes tightly once, twice, then turned around.

Chuck looked back into the courtyard then turned to the group. "Guys, we've got to go. I found an open cell on the floor back there and the guy on the other end sounds like he's bringing pizza whether he has pepperoni or not."


	10. Chapter 9

_Author's note. I don't know if it is necessary to keep saying this, but I don't know Chuck._

Although they didn't know exactly what Chuck meant, the gist of it was clear. There was no time to lose. They had to get Alex out through the wall and into the van. The entire time Alex hadn't said a word. Not when Casey took off the gag, not while they hugged, not when Sarah and Chuck came in, and not when Sarah examined her for any cuts, sprains, breaks or tracking devices. Nothing. She just kept looking through the windows, or at them. The last of the blood was still slowly running down the window, turning a darker red, then brown as it dried.

Casey placed his hand on her back and said, "Come on Alex, Morgan is waiting for you." She didn't move right away; she just continued to looking at the windows. Finally she spoke, "Umm... dad?"

"Yes Alex," he leaned in to hear her better.

"There's more coming."

Chuck and Sarah moved to the door to see a crowd gathering outside the gate through the gate house windows. They could hear an engine rev as the driver of an old Mazda pickup truck pushed the front of the truck against door. They turned to tell Casey to get her out, but he was already gone. The shattering of the wooden door caught Sarah and Chuck's attention again. "Chuck, cover their exit, I'll draw attention for a minute so everyone can load the van."

Chuck followed Casey and Alex through the wall. Morgan was coming out of the church with the nearly empty bags and threw them into the van. Andrew, the driver, was nowhere to be found, but some of the children heard the shots and had come over toward the church to see what was going on. Jonathan had heard the shots too and was heading to the church in front of the children. Sarah's voice over the comm alerted Morgan that more men were on the way, so when Jonathan reached him he said, "Jonathan, ah hey, look. I'm sorry about the noise. It's probably just some Chinese fireworks or something." Jonathan didn't look convinced, or pleased. "But umm, just in case, ah... maybe school should be out for today."

"I am going to help the teachers get these children on their way home, but I would really appreciate a minute with all of you after so I may understand exactly what is going on here."

"Well, here's the thing Jonathan, we're going have to take a rain-check on that pow wow buddy."

"A what? on what?"

"Yea, ah... hey, you get the kids tucked away and come on back, okay."

Casey was helping Alex through the split in the fence and rushing her to the van. Jonathan saw this, then turned to help evacuate the students. He was fairly certain 'evacuate' was the right word here.

Alex ran to Morgan and knocked him off balance and back into the side of the van. She sobbed heavily onto his shoulder. "It's okay now Alex, but we kinda have to get going," he spoke softly into her ear.

"Tell me you didn't shoot anyone to get me out of here," she answered back into his ear.

"What? Me? Of course not. You think they give me live ammunition? No, all I've got is this dart gun." He pulled his jacket back to show her the butt of the gun.

"I'm so glad Morgan." She continued to cling to him as he moved her to the side door of the van and helped her into the row of seats in the back. The flipped the middle seat back in place and Casey climbed in next.

"You have that map memorized, right Grimes?"

"Yes sir."

Chuck came through the wall next. Kids were scurrying everywhere, but most of them where moving toward the gates that led out. They were wide open now as most of the kids piled through them. They tried to avoid a panic, but the teachers did their best to impart a sense of urgency as they gave directions. Many of the older children could remember the riots after the election of 2008 so they were no strangers to gunfire or masses of people pushing to escape danger - real or imagined. Compared to that nightmare, this was as routine as a fire drill.

A few children stayed behind to see what was causing all of the commotion. They slipped through the web of the teachers who were herding them to the exit. As Chuck reached the van, Morgan was already in the driver's seat and using Sarah's key to start it.

"Hold on just second buddy. We have one more passenger to pick up."

"Yea, Sarah. Of course.

Sarah grabbed the chair Alex's captors tied her to and took it outside. The pickup truck, filled with seven or eight armed guards, just came to a rest in the courtyard and men were fanning out to either side. Sarah placed the chair against the wall and used it to help her reach the roof of the low grey building. From atop the building, Sarah looked for easy targets. One guard, slow to get out of the bed of the truck was her first. Then the last man into the building on her right. Two men inside the building on her left saw her on the roof and started shooting at her. She didn't have a clear shot so she crouched and made her way across the roof as shots issued from her left. A few more steps to her right and she had the angle she wanted. Two shots from her silenced K100 brought an end to their gunfire. When she reached the edge of the roof four men rushed toward her from the doorway of the building on her right. She shot the first two men then leapt to the ground. The remaining two raised their guns as they continued to charge forward. Sarah slid though the breach in the wall while the guards shot all around the opening.

The next few seconds happened for Sarah in incredibly vivid slow motion. It started with her looking to see if the van was still parked in front of the church. It was. As she started to turn her head back to the wall she caught a hint of yellow out of the corner of her eye. She looked back toward the center of the Salvation Army camp and she saw Margaret. Margaret's smile of recognition disappeared as soon as she noticed the gun in Sarah's right hand. Margaret's eyes widened and she turned to run away. As she did, she tripped and fell. Sarah, hearing more shots from the guards who were now almost to the breach in the wall, spun on them and fired into the gap. She saw one man fall and the other turn to run away. She took two steps closer to the opening, brought her left hand up to steady her aim, and shot the fleeing guard in the back.

Turning back to head for the van, Sarah couldn't help but look to Margaret. She had witnessed the entire event. The little girl shrieked, eyes wide and filled with tears. Clawing at the ground and kicking her feet, she finally got up and ran hysterically away from Sarah. Sarah just stood there, arms at her side as she watched the beautiful little girl in the yellow dress run in terror away from her.

Sarah opened the front passenger door of the van and stepped in. "Let's go Morgan."

As Morgan took the van through the ocean of children moving through the gate, Jonathan, Andrew and the two teachers just stood, expressionless and motionless. Sarah refused to meet their gaze as the van left the Salvation Army camp. Chuck put his hand on Sarah's shoulder. She spun around and her expressionless eyes met his. He raised his eyebrows, removed his hand and slowly leaned back into his seat. She returned to face the front.

"Hold tight kids, this isn't over yet." Casey surveyed the area. He had seen enough insurgencies to recognize when the population was mobilizing. Men and women ran behind the rows of houses that lined the road. Some of them ran back deeper into the slum, but most of them were running ahead. "See all of those people running up the hill ahead of us?" Casey pointed for Chuck, "Well, chances are most of them are tied into Larry's network. With Larry dead, someone will have to fill the void. There," pointing again, "are your leading candidates. The one that takes out this van - the new leader."

Sarah dug into her bag for the map. She had five different areas labeled with circled letters. "I've uploaded copies of this map to all our mobile devices. We may have to separate. When we do, you can identify your position by referring to one of the circled locations. Alex doesn't have a cell, so we need to make sure someone has eyes on her at all times." The van climbed the hill more and more slowly as the crowd grew. "At the top of this hill there is a 'T' in the road. Chuck and I will get out there. Morgan, you get this van to rendezvous point C - it's the City Market in downtown Nairobi. Chuck and I should be able to make it there on foot."

"Okay, or here's an idea, why don't we all just stay in the van and hope people just get out of the way?" Chuck offered.

"You heard Casey. Look outside," the crowd looked much more like a mob now. The top of the hill was clearly visible. The street was packed with men bouncing up and down in unison. While Chuck didn't understand Swahili, the chant sounded particularly militant. "We need to draw them away so Morgan has a chance. Casey, no matter what things look like for us, don't shoot. They overtake this van and the mission is a wash. With any luck, we'll look like easy prey and they will forget about the van."

"We'll just _look _like easy prey, right? I mean, you have some plan that will make us not actually be easy prey, don't you?" Chuck asked.

"Of course I do," Sarah sounded confident. If Chuck were convinced she actually had a plan, he would have asked for specifics. He didn't.

As the van reached the intersection, it was slowing to a crawl. If Morgan was going to continue forward, he would have to begin running people over. Sarah climbed between the front seats in order to join Chuck and Casey in back. People were beginning to bang on the windows and shout. The van started to rock as it inched forward. "Casey, Chuck, help me with the roof. On my count we need to release the latches and lift it up," Sarah had already reached up and flipped the middle two handles. "Casey, you get the back two. Chuck and I will get the two in front and slide out on top of the cab. As soon as our legs are clear," she was shouting now so Casey could hear her, "lock it up."

"Affirmative," Casey barked back. Alex was curled up and hunched down in the back seat now. Casey looked down at her and saw the locket still around her neck.

"Now!" Chuck flashed, the lightning speeding back through his brain again. In unison, he and Sarah flipped open the latches and sprung up onto the cab on the van. The roof fell back into place as hands reached up to grab Chuck and Sarah's ankles. "This way," Sarah said.

With that, she jumped from the top of the van aiming for the roof of a shack about three feet away. A hand had light hold of her ankle, just enough to send her, off balance, face first into the roof. Her head, shoulders and arms were above the roofline, but her torso hung below. People in the crowd began clearing the ditch that ran along the road to go after the blond woman. Chuck took one step and covered the three foot gap with ease. He reached down and pulled Sarah up. She kicked two people loose as he pulled. A cut had opened on her head that ran from the outside corner of her right eye back to her ear where she hit the edge of the corrugated metal roof.

Once to her feet Sarah opened fire on the crowd with one of her two tranq guns. She put down three rioters. This detered some of the people in the crowd and they began to back away, but most of the mob continued to chant and bounce in unison, advancing to either side of the shack. She ran along roof up the hill. The small shacks were built one right next to the other and the roofs formed an elevated pathway that would allow them easy access to the intersection.

Sarah holstered the tranq gun, pulled out her K100 and unscrewed the silencer. About this time Chuck really wished he asked for more details about the plan, because right now all he was doing was running behind Sarah and hoping for the best. When she crossed onto the roof of the house at the corner of the "T" she stopped, pointed the pistol toward the intersection and paused. Chuck ran up behind her. One of the rioters had climbed up on the building just behind them. Chuck turned and used a roundhouse kick to send him back down into the crowd.

Chuck heard two loud shots and turned to see Sarah, with gun raised above her head shooting into the air. She lowered it again. Chuck flashed the shouted "Kukimba!" toward the crowd. Sarah shot into the intersection - three rounds. All of them striking the ground. The resolve of many in the crowd seemed to wane as people began to back away. Taking advantage of the momentum, Sarah ran two steps and soared, right foot leading, down into the crowd. "This must be the plan," Chuck said under his breath as he too dove into the crowd. Before he left the roof Chuck did notice that the van had made it through the intersection, turned left, and was slowly picking up speed down the road. The faster the van went, the more hesitant people were to try and step in front of it.

Chuck landed near Sarah and they were fighting back to back, taking on one, two, three attackers at once. Each new hand that grasped at one of his arms or legs was met by a parry and a counter. A hand went for Chuck's tranq gun on his right hip. Chuck grabbed the hand at the wrist with his left hand, pulled the man's arm across his body and drove his right elbow deep into the mans side. Ribs cracked and the man fell. Chuck brought his right arm forward and drove an open palm up and into the chin of a man directly in front of him.

As the fought, Chuck worked to stay next to Sarah. She seemed to be making her way across the street to the row of houses at the top of the "T". She delivered kicks to the knees, groin, stomach, followed by punches to the throat and eye gouges.

Chuck glanced back at Sarah every few seconds. Her chest heaved as her breathing got harder and harder. He was also having more and more difficulty getting air as he continued to take on attacker after attacker.

They were about four feet away from the doorway of a shack when Chuck turned to see Sarah trying to free herself from a man who had her around the neck from behind. Another man advanced on her from the front, but a sharp kick sent him reeling. Chuck could see Sarah weakening. She began to reach for her pistol. Chuck delivered a snap kick with his right foot to an attacker in front of him, returned to a stance, then drove his left foot backwards and down hard onto the right leg of the man choking Sarah. Then Chuck spun around to his left and continued through with his right hand into the man's right kidney. The attacker collapsed to the ground.

Chuck grabbed Sarah by the waist and shoved her into the doorway in front of them. Chuck dispatched two more attackers and followed Sarah into the small building. A mother and two young children sat huddled in the far corner of the ten by ten room. A small iron wood stove stood in the middle of the room and two small benches and several straw mats completed furnishings. The mother held out a kitchen knife and thrust it toward Sarah and Chuck. Men from the crowd outside stomped cautiously toward the doorway shouting fiercely, but they stopped short of actually entering the room. Sarah rested against the wall for a few seconds. Sweat had soaked through her blouse under the dark windbreaker and strings of wet hair ringed her face. She eyed a window on the back wall then looked back to Chuck. "Ready?"

Three strides, the she dove head first through the glassless window. Chuck climbed through the window after her. The crowd had not yet poured to the back of this row of houses. To get here, they would have to go all the way down to the end of the 'block' about sixty feet in either direction and then converge. This would buy them the time they would need to run to the wall that separated Kibera from some fairly upscale condominiums.

The closer they got to the wall the taller it looked as Chuck and Sarah weaved toward it through the maze hovels. It was soon clear that it would be nearly impossible to scale the wall with a mob of attackers in pursuit. Sarah cleared the last row of houses and came to a short patch of grass between her and the wall. Looking left, she spotted a large culvert about forty yards away. She sprinted for it, Chuck right behind her. At ten feet, she spotted two men with ax handles standing guard in front of the opening. As if by reflex, she drew her .9mm and dropped them with one shot each.

Chuck stopped, staring at the two dead men. "You coming?" Sarah said as she crouched down and entered the five foot high culvert.


	11. Chapter 10

Morgan was free from most of the rioting residents of Kibera and finally made it down Kibera Drive to Ngong Road. From there he would be able to turn east and head to the middle of downtown Nairobi.

Casey was still in the middle seats. He watched out the window as they passed roasted corn stands, flower dealers, furniture sellers and roadside apparel shops. From time to time, he tried to get a look at Alex out of the corner of his eye. "When we get into the city, we should ditch the van and look for other transportation," Casey said.

"No problem, any luck raising Chuck or Sarah on the comms?"

"Not yet. If they are still in the thick of it, they may not be able to hear. They'll contact us then they're clear. You just worry about driving." Casey understood very well the difference between knowing what your father does for a living and actually witnessing it. He couldn't imagine what she thought of him now. Well, he thought, I got along without her for the first few decades of her life. I suppose I will survive the next few. He clenched and released his jaw and re-directed his attention to the road ahead.

Now that they were safe, Morgan spent almost as much time looking at Alex in the rear view mirror as he did watching the road. Her expression remained the same - blank. She looked ahead into the open space of the van in front of her, legs pulled up onto the seat, arms wrapped around her shoulders and gnawing on her right thumbnail. Finally, Morgan saw her uncurl and reach for her dad's shoulder.

"Dad," she said softly into his left ear.

"Yes," unflinching - still looking straight ahead.

"Dad, I know why you had to do what you did. I'm glad you did it." Casey turned his head slightly toward her, "It's just... I never..."

"Alex," Casey turned to her now and put his right hand on the hand she rested on his left shoulder, "honey. People like me do things like this so that people like you will never have to. I wish the world were different, but it isn't."

"I know. I never had any illusions about what you did - or why. It's just..." she looked down at the floor again. "Dad?"

"Yes?"

"How many people have you killed?"

"Alex," he said softly, "I don't really know." This was a lie. He knew without question how many. He saw every face, he remembered every name - those that had names he knew. "It doesn't happen as often as you might think."

"More than ten? Twenty?"

"Yes. More than that."

"Okay." She was quiet for another minute and then, "Thank you for coming for me," she gripped his shoulder tighter.

"I'm your father. I don't want you to ever worry - about anything."

Gradually, she lighted her grip on Casey's shoulder and allowed her hand to slide off. She leaned back into her seat. Morgan couldn't hear everything they said, but he smiled anyway.

-O-

"Chuck, we have to hurry," Sarah led as they headed through the culvert. Chuck looked for an opening to talk about, well, to talk about her. The mob that pursued them stopped at the entrance. For all of the shouting and jumping around, they wouldn't step one foot into this tunnel.

"Sarah, stop for second. Look," he pointed to the silhouetted figures at the tunnel opening, "they've stopped. Let's take a second to," he paused, "regroup."

"Fine. One minute, then we have to go. We need to get clear of this culvert so we can radio Casey and make sure they cleared the slums and are on their way to the rendezvous point." She leaned heavily against the side of the culvert, arms down at her sides to keep her from sliding down the rounded surface. Chuck moved in next to her.

"Sarah, umm. Are we okay here?" He looked at her, but Sarah continued to look down.

"I don't know what you mean Chuck. We just fought our way out of a slum riot, secured Alex and the chip and now we're about twenty yards from freedom. Yea. I think we're okay."

The answer didn't satisfy Chuck. "Yea. Hey, you looked good back there by the way. Haven't lost a step."

"Thanks."

"Just like old times - the Super-spy and the Intersect kicking butt."

"Right. I don't know about Super-spy, but I'm glad we both made it out alive."

"Me too," he didn't know how to ask the next question. "Sarah?"

"Yes Chuck." He was familiar with that tone. The "what could you possible want to talk about now" tone.

"Do you need more tranq darts?" He reached for his tranq gun.

"No, I'm good. Thanks," with that, she pushed herself up off the rounded culvert wall. "Okay, caught your wind?" Chuck nodded. "Alright then, let's get to the rendezvous point." Sarah turned and jogged, crouching, down the length of the culvert. Chuck followed.

When they reached the opening, Sarah realized why no one from the slum would follow them. This end of the culvert opened into a rather large camp. Men with automatic weapons walked freely around small sheds and houses. Others, in a mix of civilian grab and lab coats, moved between houses carrying beakers, baskets and plastic containers. The four men with AK47's leveled at them from both sides of the tunnel opening made it clear that they were expected. Sarah turned around and started back the other direction when a voice called out, "Halt. That is far enough please. Holster your weapon and walk out of this tunnel." Sarah quickly assessed the situation: outnumbered, absolutely no cover. She and Chuck did as they were told.

One of the guards called on the radio, the other spoke to them. "Please, step over to this table and sit down." They still hadn't moved to disarm either her or Chuck. "Very slowly now. No one needs to be hurt. My boss would like a word with the two of you."

With that, a man - average height, broad shoulders - came out from behind some of the small sheds. The had a military style beret with green fatigues and mirrored sunglasses. He took long confident strides towards the table and sat table opposite Chuck and Sarah. Chuck flashed. Military commander, drug dealer, philanthropist. Interesting combination.

"Hello. My name is General Theodore Adoyo. Welcome to my place. May I get you something cold to drink?"

"Nothing for me, thank you," Sarah answered.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind some bottled water, if it isn't too much trouble," Chuck said. Sarah looked over to him. "What? I don't know if you were watching, but I worked up a thirst back there."

"May I at least get someone who can tend to your wounds?" General Adoyo asked.

"What I would like is..." Sarah snapped, but Chuck cut her off and put his hand on hers, "We would appreciate that. Thank you."

Adoyo raised his right hand and motioned toward the table. A man ran to his side. Adoya spoke to him quietly in Swahili and the man dashed away. He reached into his back pocket, Sarah watching his hand carefully, brought out a handkerchief and held it out to her. "May I offer you this until my men return?"

"Thank you," she took it and dabbed it carefully on her face.

"I don't have another or else I would..." Adoyo trailed off, looking at Chuck's arm.

"Oh this? Just a scratch. Barely remembered it was there."

Two men came up to the table. One man, clad in a lab coat and black slacks and a polo shirt, carried a tray with medical supplies. The other, dressed in more civilian clothing, brought four bottles of water dripping in condensation and set them down on the table. "May my medic tend to your wounds? No better field medic in all of Kenya."

"Yes, thank you," Sarah answered tersely.

"Meanwhile, would you permit me to talk business with you?" Adoyo asked.

"Sure, but I don't know what kind of business we can help you with," Chuck said.

"You have already helped me considerably, although it came at the cost of two of my men."

"Oh, the guys in front of the culvert," Chuck said quietly. Then, "General, I would like to offer our sincere apologies. I mean, I know it's no excuse, but with all of the fighting and chasing..."

"I am very familiar with the fog of war Mr. Carmichael. And while I mourn the loss of my men, what we have gained today outweighs the cost. It is a good day," the general said.

"Wait, I don't believe I gave you my name," Chuck said raising one finger while he spoke.

"True. Nevertheless, I know who you and Ms. Walker are. That is part of the reason I desire to speak with you," the general continued. Sarah continued to watch him carefully, wincing occasionally as the medic tended to her cut. First, he cleaned the area with a ten percent povidone iodine solution, then he closely examined the nature and depth of the cut. When he concluded his examination, he stepped over to Chuck and began working on his right arm.

"When you and your team killed the Chinese national who went by the name 'Larry', you did me a great service. He had no love for the Kenyan people. He simply took advantage of their poverty to provide him with protection. The organization he ran here will quickly be assumed by my people and I will once again be able to protect the residents of Kibera."

"You protect them by selling them drugs?" Chuck said leveling a more serious stare.

"The drugs weed out the weak and sick and provide me with the resources to help those who wish for a better life. Before this 'Larry,' I was able to protect my people from the harm these addicts tried to inflict. Now that you have eliminated him, I can once again help the strong and speed the demise of the weak and sick."

"Great, well I'm glad we could help, I guess..." Chuck's voice trailed off.

"It is because of this help that I offer you this information," the general paused. "You two have no idea why you ended up here in Kenya." The general opened one of the bottles of water and took a long drink.

"Interesting. I kind of thought we knew," Chuck said, "but maybe you can tell me why you think we're here?"

"You are currently working for Anderson International, aren't you Mr. Carmichael?"

"And if I am?" Chuck asked.

"Mr. Anderson, of Anderson International, used to be stationed right here in Kenya at the request of the American Government," another drink of water, then he continued. "While he was officially here as a low level diplomat, it is well known that he was actually working under direction from your government's Central Intelligence Agency. I actually received his assistance on occasion in helping our Sudanese friends deal with the LRA." The medic had finished dressing Chuck's wound and had returned to the general's side. He looked as though he wished to speak with him. "Excuse me for a moment."

The general exchanged a few words with the medic in Swahili and then said to Sarah, "He wishes to know if he would be permitted to administer a local anesthetic and suture your cut Ms. Walker. He promises that there will be no scar."

"That would be fine," Sarah said. The general nodded and the medic walked away to one of the small sheds.

"Anyway, Mr. Carmichael it seems you have been the target of a CIA operation," the general said.

"Okay, I'm not sure where you get your information, but I happen to know the CIA has no interest in me. You must have the wrong guy."

"So you aren't in possession of a very important government weapon? One that could prove invaluable if the CIA could get their hands on it and mass produce it?"

"You see the weapons I have right here," Chuck reached for his tranq guns and laid them on the table. Despite reaching for weapons in an armed camp, the guards took curiously little notice. The medic returned with a hypodermic, a needle and some sutures.

"As I do not know the nature of the weapon they seek, I cannot help you any further with the 'why', but be assured, you are a target."

"And this Mr. Anderson told you this?" Chuck asked.

"Yes. He continues to be a reliable source of information for me. He told me you would be coming to Kibera and he told me you would be killing Larry. Apparently it was orchestrated by some people in the CIA to see if you still had this weapon they desire. If I was able to get this weapon from you and give it to Mr. Anderson, he promised to reward me handsomely. As my men saw no weapon, I have no further interest in you."

"Well, thank you very much for the information but we just came here to rescue our friend, so after you get Sarah here stitched up we'll be going," he picked up his tranq guns and re-holstered them.

"Very well," another drink of water then, "Is there anything else I could do for you? Are you in need of transportation?"

"Actually, a ride would be great," Chuck said.

"Very well, I will arrange a car and a driver. He will be at your disposal for as long as you remain in Nairobi. I must say goodbye now Mr. Carmichael," and to Sarah, "Ms. Walker. I wish you a safe journey home."

The medic finished stitching up Sarah while Chuck called Casey on the comm.

-O-

Morgan, Alex and Casey left the van parked on the street near the market and walked to a convenience store across from the City Market. Alex clutched Morgan's hand tightly as they entered. They bought some fresh oranges, three bottles of water and a cigar and went to the check out. "My treat," Morgan said as he handed a credit card to the merchant.

They sat outside of City Market for about twenty minutes when the call came from Chuck.

"Casey, Sarah and I are about ten minutes away from rendezvous point 'C'. Are we a go?"

"Affirmative. We have jettisoned the vehicle and are ready to roll."

"See you in ten."

"They're on their way Alex," Casey said. "We'll have you home in no time now."

-O-

Chuck and Sarah rode in the back of a military issue Land Rover Defender, five door, on their way to City Market.

"You know the weapon they are talking about, don't you Chuck?" Sarah said once they were well on their way.

"Yes."

"And didn't you say you saw Tommy Delgato's name associated with Anderson?"

"Yes. I should check in with Mom and Ellie and make sure everything is okay back home."

Chuck fished his iPhone out of his pocket and turned it on. A red tint colored the entire screen. "This isn't good."

"What?" Sarah asked.

"Level 1 alert from Victor. Appears we have a problem at home," Chuck said.

"I'm calling Ellie, they have to get out of there," Sarah picked up her phone and dialed.

Chuck punched at the face of his iPhone frantically. "No, no, no, no, no. This can't be. How?"

"Hello, Ellie?"

"Sarah? It's great to hear your voice. Did you find Alex?"

"Yes, we have her."

"Is she okay?"

"Yes, she's fine. Yes, but Ellie, listen... Is your mother still there?"

"Yes, why? What's going on Sarah?"

"Good. Ellie, listen to me. You have to take the girls and Devon and get out of there. Tell your mother to head for the safe house. She'll know exactly what do to."

"Safe house? What is going on? Are we in danger?"

"I don't know. I think so, yes. Just to be on the safe side, we need you to leave. Don't take anything with you. Stop at a Target or something on the way, get all new clothes and things for the kids. Change everything - shoes, underwear - everything. Then throw all of your old clothing away."

"Sarah, you're scaring me? What's going on?"

"After you have all new clothes, ditch the car and pick up another. Your mother will take care of that. But you have to go, now. Don't call anyone and don't take your cellphones. When you get to the safe house, have your mom send us the number to a disposable cell - she knows the email to send it to. Do you have all that?"

"Yes, but I still don't understand."

"Ellie, trust me, go now. We'll fill you in when we can."

"Okay," Ellie paused, "Sarah?"

"Yes?"

"You two be careful."

"We will."

As Sarah hung up, she notice that Chuck was just sitting, staring at the screen of his iPhone. He turned it so Sarah could see.

On their couch, in their living room, with his feet on their table, sat Fulcrum agent Tommy Degato. He was watching footage of Chuck and Sarah's fight in the slums of Kibera on their widescreen television.

Delgato turned to look at the security camera Chuck had concealed in the living room and waved. "Hello Chuck. You finally logged in. I'm just enjoying a little Intersect Television," he turned back to look at the television screen, then he faced the camera again. "It's been a while. What do you say you call me when you get back to your plane? I think we have some things to chat about. I'm sure you know the number."


	12. Chapter 11

_Sorry it has been so long between updates. Life's been busy. Appreciate any feedback. Thanks._

"So, your couch, eh?" Casey said as the team headed back to the Verbanski private jet. "He's got stones, got to give him that."

"I don't have to give him anything, he's on my couch. Victor's offline - at least through my handset. I can still see the cams, but I'm pretty sure that's because Delgato wants me to." Chuck looked at the iPhone again. Delgato helped himself to a diet soda from the fridge and an apple from the counter before the went back to the couch. Now he had the Cubs' game on.

"Chuck," Sarah said, "Emma and the rest of the family are on the way to a safe house, so there's no immediate threat. We have a little time to figure out what to do from here."

"He's in OUR HOUSE," Chuck said again.

"Dude, who is this guy anyway?" Morgan asked.

"Fulcrum agent," Casey said. "Traitorous scum. I hit him in the face when I should have shot him in the head." He stopped there. He thought he saw Alex start a little.

"Fulcrum? Oh Fulcrum. Well I guess that means... umm what does that mean?" Morgan asked.

Sarah answered. "Officially, Fulcrum is a deactivated rogue faction of the CIA. They were trying to develop a version of the Intersect so they could create an army of super-spies. Chuck's father promised to develop a copy of the Intersect for them if they promised to leave Chuck alone. We made sure that didn't happen."

"Okay, so this Delgato character is the head of Fulcrum or something?" Morgan asked.

No one answered this question right away. Then Casey said, "The last we heard he was locked away in the deepest darkest part of a CIA detention center."

"Okay, so he broke out. Good. Call Beckman and they'll haul his butt back to jail," Morgan said.

"Maybe Morgan's right. We can call Beckman. If he did escape, they would certainly want him back," Chuck said.

"Think about what you're saying there Bartowski - 'Maybe Morgan's right'?" Alex did look at him now. "No offense, Grimes," Casey added.

"Right, none taken..." he paused and considered using the "D" word, then thought better, "John."

"Who knows which hole the CIA threw him in. Could be Romania, Somalia, Poland, Syria. Either way, it is a long crawl from there before you see light," Casey said.

"You're right Casey," Sarah said. "Breaking out is practically unheard of. But, the only other option would be that they let him out. Why would they let him out?"*

"And there's more. According to this Kenyan General, the company I am working for stateside is just a shell and the entire kidnapping was a CIA plan to see if I still had a functioning Intersect," Chuck said.

"If it is CIA, Beckman can't be behind it. She knows all about the Intersect. It is possible she has been circumvented," Casey said.

"We're almost back to the plane. I'll see if I can find out," Chuck said.

The Land Rover pulled up on the tarmac in front of the Verbanski Corp. jet. Riding in a military vehicle has its privileges, Chuck thought. He raced up the steps of the plane and headed for the terminal where he had left V.I.C.T.O.R. working on the Anderson site. "Well, there's your problem," he said as soon as he saw the screen. "Oh, he's good." The thick red line he saw earlier was had now almost consumed the screen and all of the information was flowing directly back into V.I.C.T.O.R.

"What does it mean?" Sarah asked as she looked at the screen. Casey stood to the other side of Chuck. Morgan and Alex walked up towards the front of the plane.

"I use Victor to check for leaks in a site by filling the site with so much information the seams give a little. Those seams help Victor find weaknesses then he works to patch them up." Chuck started punching away at the keyboard while he continued. "Apparently, someone used this connection and reversed the flow. They flooded the connection with so much information that the stream changed direction. As soon as the tide turned, they were able to slide 'agents' of their own into our mainframe and start taking over one system at a time." Chuck slammed his fists down on the table. "I knew something was wrong. I shouldn't have left Victor connected while we were out."

"You couldn't know," Sarah rested her hand on Chuck's shoulder.

"Yes, I could have. I knew, but I let it run anyway. Everything's inside Victor. Mission logs, bank accounts, Intersect diagnostics, all of the research on the faulty Intersects, Ellie's brain research - everything." He typed more quickly now. "Hopefully, he hasn't blocked access to the...there, that should do it." The green blob on the screen went blank. "Alright, let's see what Delgato wants with us." Chuck dialed his home phone and put it on speaker.

"Hello Chuck. Thanks for calling," Delgato said.

"Get your feet off our table Delgato," Chuck said.

"Now Chuck, not much of a host are you?" Delgato said.

"What do you want?" Chuck asked.

"I'm glad you asked. You know, when I found out you weren't dead I was a little surprised. Very nice show you and Bryce put on."

"Well as much as I appreciate hearing from an admirer, I can't help by wonder why you're in my living room."

"I just wanted to get your attention." Delgato reached over to an end table and grabbed a picture. "Cute kid. She yours?"

"That's it, get out of my house. I'm a pretty reasonable guy, but trust me, you wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

"Quoting the Hulk? Well I guess when that thing in your head kicks in you must feel a little 'Hulklike'." Someone off camera spoke to Delgato, then he returned his attention to the camera. "Looks like you and your little team have finally taken off. Good. That means my entire package will be arriving soon."

Chuck, puzzled, just looked at the iPhone image of Delgato.

"You see Chuck, you have all the ingredients on that plane for a whole new brand of Intersect. The CIA is very interested. Between the new super fast microchip you have onboard and the system you have working in your head, I should be able to put one heck of an agent together."

"What are you talking about?" Chuck asked.

"Just imagine if you never had to flash again. If all of that information was always at the ready - instantly. And storage, oh Charles, the amount of information a brain can store. With your sister' s research, your interface and that little chip you have the sky's the limit. Well, I've got to go. Don't want to be late for our meeting."

"What?" Chuck asked.

"Chuck, Chuck, Chuck, that Verbanski plane is really something else. A little flying fortress. A guy couldn't break into that cabin if his life depended on it. But, I'm sure you'll find that out soon enough. See you in Paris mon ami," Delgato hung up the phone. Chuck could only watch on his iPhone as Delgato and one other man walked out Chuck's front door.

As soon as Delgato hung up, Casey walked over to the door to the cockpit. Locked. He knocked, then pounded, then insisted. No reply. "They've taken over the plane."

"Okay, that shouldn't be any problem. I can reroute some of the controls through here," Chuck began working then abruptly stopped.

"What's wrong?" asked Sarah.

"Locked here too. There is nothing in Delgato's file about computer geniuserie. Someone else must be pushing buttons for him. He's locked us out of our network, hacked Verbanski Corp.'s jet. There is no _Dummies _book for any of that," Chuck said.

"It must be a CIA operation. Adoyo was right," Sarah said.

"I don't know. I'm familiar with most of the hackers at the CIA - most of them are glorified script kiddies."

"Script what?" Sarah's forehead crinkled.

"Script kiddies. They don't develop code, they just know how to work other people's programming. True artists are rare and most would never work for the CIA so the CIA is reduced to acquiring 'tools' from serious hackers and having their script kiddies run them." Chuck looked at the screen again, "But this is genius. Whoever broke both my code for Victor and the security for Verbanski is a real innovator."

"What do we do now?" Casey asked.

"I can keep working here. I don't care how good this guy is, there's no way he hacks our nerve center and this plane and leaves nothing behind. If I can find out who this guy is, I may be able to find a way back in," Chuck said.

"You play with your computer, I'm going to find another way to get things under control," Casey walked to the back of the plane.

"Chuck, unless you have something for me to do, I am going to close my eyes for a few mintues," Sarah said.

"No, of course, go ahead," Chuck said not looking up. He was reaching for headphones with one hand while still typing with his other hand. In minutes he was layer upon layer into code. This guy was good, Chuck thought.

With Casey in the back of the plane, Alex and Morgan together in the front and Casey beginning to disassemble the plane in the back, Sarah picked a place somewhere in the middle to sit. She reclined the seat and turned to look out the window. It was getting dark now and she closed her eyes, tightly. All she could see was Margaret in the beautiful worn yellow dress running screaming away from her. Tears streamed down her face.

-O-

Morgan and Alex curled up together under a blanket, her head resting on his chest, his arm around her. "I'm fine, really," Alex said.

"You know, when they loaded you into that van, I didn't know what I was going to do. I know I put up a pretty brave front, but I don't mind telling you, I was scared."

Alex smiled and hugged him a little tighter. "I know you don't have that thing in your head anymore, and I'm really glad of that, but I still knew that somehow you would rescue me."

"Yea well, with or without the rest of the team, I was coming for you. It was everything I could do not to rush that compound by myself as soon as I heard you were in there."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't. Who knows what damage you would have done."

They sat wrapped in each other's arms silently for a few minutes, then Morgan said quietly, "Who am I kidding, all I did was drive the van. I never once thought of picking up a gun."

"And that, Mr. Grimes, is why I can't wait to become Mrs. Grimes." Alex looked up at him and kissed him lightly on the lips.

-O-

Sarah awoke to Casey's voice, quiet but direct.

"Walker." From the tone, Sarah got the idea that he had repeated it more than once before she heard. She opened her eyes, quickly wiped away the remnants of tears, and turned to face the Casey. "I could use another hand back here. I have an idea."

"Right. I'll be back in a second."

Casey turned and headed back to the rear of the plane. In a few minutes Sarah followed. Casey was standing near the tail of the plane. Here there was a keypad for a door that led to a bay designed to hold at least one Humvee.

"If we can get through this door we can get into the loading bay. I think there's a path to the cargo hold from there. If nothing else, it may give us a place to hide when Delgato's men board."

"The keypad should be no problem. I'll get my bag," Sarah turned and headed toward the middle of the plane.

Casey had already dislodged two of the floor plates, but they only exposed some wiring. No telling where the wiring led. In the bathroom, Casey removed the toilet from the floor, exposing a holding tank just big enough for someone Morgan or Alex's size - not that he would ask either one to hide there. He thought about removing the cabinet next.

Sarah returned with the electronic keypad decoder and she hooked it to the pad on the wall. In seconds the light turned from red to green and she opened the door.

The loading bay sloped up toward the tail. When loading and unloading, the floor lowered to act as a ramp. A black Humvee sat cabled to the floor. Walking down the half dozen steps to the loading bay floor and up to the rear gate of the Humvee, Casey opened it and took out a small, but very well supplied, tool chest which he carried back over toward the doorway. "If I'm not mistaken, this panel right here leads down into the cargo bay. Here," he threw Sarah a flashlight from the tool kit.

Sarah turned it on and pointed it where Casey was working. "Would it have killed Gertrude to put a cordless drill in here?" he said as he began hand turning the first of over twenty screws.

"You know Walker, I would have done the same thing," Casey said without looking up. "We leave anyone alive, and who knows what happens to those children."

"I know."

"And the men that held Alex, there was no way they were walking out of there, period. I mean, I would have preferred not to have neutralize them in front her, but at the end of the day, I have no problem looking myself in the mirror."

"And you shouldn't."

"Neither should you."

"Who said I did?" Sarah asked with a hint of defensiveness in here voice that didn't escape Casey.

"No one. I'm just saying..."

"Well don't. I'm fine. Are you almost done with these screws?"

"Just a few more turns and..." the plate fell to the floor. Cool dry air rushed out of the opening. "Okay, let's see if this goes where I think. Flashlight?" Casey held out his hand.

The space was tight, but it definitely ran underneath the floor of the cabin. He could see light coming from some of the floor panels he had removed in the cabin. A thick bulkhead seemed to separate them from the hold.

"Looks like this stops a little short of getting us into the hold, but it should work as a hiding place. I'm going to put the bathroom back together and get our things stowed away in here. Thanks for the help Walker."

"Sure Casey. Isn't there something else you need me to do?"

"Nope, I'm fine here."

Sarah headed back up the steps and into the main cabin. Chuck was sitting in a row of seats near where she had slept working on his laptop. She stopped for a minute just looking at him, then took a deep breath, put on a smile and sat down next to him.

"Everything back under control?" Sarah asked.

"Not exactly," Chuck looked tired, grim. "I managed to create a line to the Internet so I can still access it with my laptop while we are in the air. Also, they failed to mask the telemetry data, so at least we know exactly where we are and when we will arrive in Paris."

"So that's it? What about regaining control of the plane, or Victor?" Sarah couldn't mask the frustration.

"I have Victor offline, for whatever good that does now, but this plane is heading to Paris whether we want to go there or not."

"So what do we do now?"

"Well, I am reserving us a nice apartment in the 14th arrondissement in case we get off of this plane and need a place to set up a base. Look at the view," he turned the screen so Sarah could see the pictures.

"Casey is working on a way to conceal ourselves when we land. We just might need that apartment after all."

"Oh good, because I was able to book one more on our floor and one on the floor right beneath us. I had to use Morgan's card again though. Seems our accounts are frozen."

"So have we figured out why Paris?" Sarah asked.

"I'm glad you asked," Chuck minimized one window and restored another. "I was able to find some interesting things out by hacking into the CIA database." Chuck flipped through a few tabs and landed on a schematic for a laboratory. "This is the Brain and Spine Institute, Paris." Sarah's brow furrowed and she cocked her head slightly. "Yea, I'm not crazy about the name either. You would think that for people who work with the brain, they could have come up with a more creative name." Chuck looked at Sarah before he delivered the next line, "I guess they specialize on the left side of the brain." Nothing. Not even the hint of a smile. "You know, because the right side is the creative side?"

"Yes, I'm aware. And what does this institute have to do with anything?" Sarah continued to look down at the schematics on Chuck's laptop.

"Right. Umm. They are having an symposium this week on theories related to opening up the full storage potential of the human mind. Every brain expert in the world will be here for the next five days."

"So if you were trying to build a new Intersect, you could shop for a few engineers here."

"Exactly. According to the online schedule, one of the topics is actually integrating computer processors with the human neural network. A Dr. Lomahnov is the featured speaker. I thought it might be a good idea to see if we could get a little one on one time with this Lomahnov."

"Maybe he knows who might be interested in making their own Intersect."

"Right. You know Sarah, as much as I would like to get home, until we figure out who is behind this and stop them, no one is safe."

"No, I agree. We need to take Delgato down and anyone associated with him."

"Speaking of that, I fired off a rather strongly worded email to Beckman. If this is a CIA sanctioned operation, maybe we can work out something with her."

"Work something out? You know what that would mean, don't you? Do you know how often Casey and I had to fight to keep you out of some underground bunker for the rest of your life?"

"Beckman will help, just trust me Sarah."

"You trust too much sometimes. I know Beckman has come through for us in the past, but don't think for one second she has ever done anything for you that hasn't benefited her. There are no 'friends' in this business."

"Really Sarah? You haven't seen a change in Casey? In Beckman? In yourself?"

"I don't know," Sarah looked down blankly. "I used to think change was possible, but after today. I don't know what to think."

"You are still the same Sarah I fell in love with," Chuck put his hand on hers.

"That's what I'm afraid of. You really have no idea who that Sarah was... is … Chuck."

"I think I know her pretty well."

"Really?" she looked up at Chuck with cold blank eyes. "When did you fall in love with me Chuck? Our first kiss? When I said I love you? And out of all of that, what was our cover and what was real? I hope you can tell me Chuck, because right now I don't think I know."

"Of course it was..."

"Chuck, I'm not like you. You're this sweet trusting nice guy who just happens to be able to flip a switch and become the perfect human weapon. I don't have a switch. The person I've become has come after years of training, conditioning, mental discipline. When I pulled the trigger today and shot that man in the back, I did it. Me Chuck. Not some program, not some alter-ego. Me, the mother of your child. The woman you married. What kind of man marries a woman whose whole life is a lie and can kill like that - without remorse?"

"Sarah, but you aren't..."

"Not what Chuck? You saw it. That little girl at the camp saw it. The only difference between her and you is that she's smart enough to run away screaming when she sees a monster. You can't see past this," she swept both her hands quickly down her body.

Sarah stood up and stepped into the aisle. She looked left and saw Alex and Morgan looking over the back of the seat at her. Looking right, Casey stood in the doorway to the auto bay. Clearly, she had spoken loudly enough for all of them to hear her. She had never wanted to be alone more in her life.

Chuck reached for her hand, to pull her back down next to him. She jerked her hand away and headed back toward the auto bay, past Casey and to the Humvee. The door was open. She got in and sat down.


	13. Chapter 12

"Hey buddy. How're doin'?" Morgan popped over the armrest into the seat next to Chuck.

"Fine. Not sure I want to talk right now Morgan," Chuck stared at the laptop screen.

"I know. Hey, you guys have come a long way together. I mean the whole CIA handler thing, the Intersect wiping out her memory, that fight about the flat screen in the living room."

"Yea, I guess."

"Well, if you can get through all of that..."

"This is a little different Morgan. I think... I think..." he looked up at looked right into Morgan's eyes, "she might be right."

"What? Hey, you don't mean that. This is Sarah."

"I know. The Sarah that poisoned an entire French contingent. The Sarah that shot a man in cold blood in a Christmas tree sales lot. The Sarah that just today shot a man in the back and two other men in cold blood."

"Two other men? When?"

"Outside of a culvert. They were standing guard and she just dropped them - one shot each. They didn't even raise a weapon. She had a tranq gun on her hip the whole time."

"One shot each - well, she's a good shot anyway," Morgan knew his attempt at levity was ill timed as soon as he spoke. "I'm sure she..."

"Stop making excuses for her Morgan. Maybe she's right." Chuck turned toward the winodw, "Maybe she's right." Morgan and Chuck sat in silence for a few minutes then, "We have about three hours before we reach Paris. Maybe you could give me a few minutes here."

"Yea, sure thing. You'll feel better after some sleep," Morgan said, even though he didn't really believe it.

-O-

Casey approached the door of the Humvee. Sarah had her head down, but there were no tears. "What?" she asked without looking up.

"Listen Walker, I know you and your boyfriend are having a little tiff, but if you haven't noticed we are about to be gift wrapped for Delgato. He's probably going to dissect the geek like a frog. As much as I have wanted to do it myself from time to time, I have a feeling you might like him in one piece."

"What do you need Casey?"

"Well, for starters, can you get this bay door open?"

"It's hooked to the same panel that controls the doorway to here, so yes. I can probably get it open."

"Good. Then I have a plan. But I have to know that you are going to be 100%, because if you aren't I'm going to do this alone."

"I'm fine. I'm better than I've been in a long time."

"Right," Casey said and shook his head. "I can see that by the little speech back there."

"Do you have something you want me to do, or are you going to hand out marriage advice?" Sarah stared straight at him.

"Alright. Get all the gear in the Humvee and get everyone ready to crawl into the space back here under the floor."

-O-

The pilots radioed for clearance then called down to Delgato. "Sir, we're on final approach now."

"Roger," Delgato answered. He was seated in a Armored Personnel Vehicle on the tarmac at Charles de Gaulle International Airport outside of the terminal reserved for private aircraft. "We are standing by, over."

"Roger, we are at 10,000 feet and descend... wait. Sir, we have a problem. The cabin has just depressurized. Someone has opened the hatch."

"You removed all of the parachutes, didn't you?"

"Affirmative sir. There is no way they could have left the plane and survived."

"Just get it down. We'll have a vehicle escort you from the second you touch down to the moment you roll to a stop here."

"Roger."

Delgato could finally see the plane on final approach. A Jeep filled with four commandos fully equipped with M 4 Carbines with grenade launchers took chase as soon as the plane touched down. As the plane approached Terminal 2E, Delgato could see the missing cabin door. When the plane rolled to a rest, a team moved a set of stairs up to the door and the team of commandos from the Jeep boarded the plane. Delgato followed. A team of four armed soldiers from the APV waited outside the plane.

Delgato walked seat to seat and found nothing. No bags, no laptops, no passengers. When he got to the back of the plane, the keypad to the auto bay was unresponsive. "Someone open this door," he commanded.

Beneath the floor of the airplane, Chuck and the others crammed into the dark space Casey found between the auto bay and the cargo hold. The footsteps of Delgato and the others fell on the floor just above their heads. Morgan felt around for Chuck's shoulder, then leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "Dude, I feel just like Chewbacca in the smuggler's hold of the Millennium Falcon."

Chuck quietly pushed a "Shh" out between his lips and through an uplifted finger.

The crew in the cockpit opened the auto bay door and Delgato entered followed by all four commandos. Other than the parked Humvee, the bay was empty. "I can't believe they don't tie this thing down when they fly," Delgato said to one commando nodding his head toward the Humvee. "They must have found a way into the cargo hold. Let's go, I want the hold opened now!" Delgato and the commandos moved back into the cabin. Just as the reached the door, the ramp for the auto bay began to lower. Delgato turned to the open cockpit door, "I never asked you to lower that. Bring it up."

"I can't sir, it is going down on it's own." And with that, the force from an explosion from under the seats at the midsection of the plane threw Delgato out of the open cabin door and sent him tumbling down the stairs. The commandos in the cabin weren't quite as lucky.

In the auto bay, Casey let the metal panel leading to the crawl space drop as he ran to the driver's door of the Humvee. Chuck, Alex and Morgan followed, each heading to the vehicle. Morgan let out a loud Chewbacca growl as he headed to the vehicle. "Let's just hope the old man got the tractor beam disabled," he cried as he pushed Alex into the back seat and then followed her in.

Sarah, still in the crawl space, made sure the ramp opened far enough then she unhooked the decoder took it and ran for the Humvee. Casey had it running and as soon as Sarah's second leg cleared the threshold he floored it and sailed out of the rear of the plane. The ramp was still about four feet from reaching the tarmac and the Humvee went airborne for a moment then landed solidly and sped away.

The four soldiers on the ground turned and fired on the fleeing Humvee. Realizing small arms fire wasn't going to slow the armored vehicle down, they loaded the commando Jeep and sped off in pursuit.

Casey took the Humvee back down the runway as the trailing Jeep began closing the distance. Sarah turned to Chuck in the back driver's side seat, "Get the rifle from behind your seat." Chuck turned and grabbed a gun case and handed it forward to Sarah. She slid out of her seat and onto the wide flat section that ran the length of the interior between driver's and passenger's side seats. After removing the Heckler and Kock HK-416 from its case, she opened the roof hatch on the military Humvee and turned to fire on the Jeep. Four rounds into the grill of the advancing vehicle caused steam to begin billowing from the punctured radiator. She then aimed for the tires. After three rounds, the front left tire blew and the driver of the Jeep slowed the vehicle to a stop. Casey backed off the accelerator and Sarah dropped back down and closed the hatch. She replaced the rifle in the case and handed it to Chuck. She looked to the seat opposite Chuck where Alex and Morgan jammed into the one passenger side seat, "You two okay?"

"We're fine. Nice shootin' Annie Oakley," Morgan said.

"Thanks," Sarah managed a smile.

"Casey," Chuck said from the back seat, "I have the address of the apartments I booked for us. I've sent them to each of our phones."

"Good, because it looks like we may have to split up."

Chuck and Sarah both looked behind the speeding Humvee to see three sets of French police vehicles, lights ablaze and sirens wailing, falling in behind the truck.

"I suggest we not shoot them," Chuck turned back and said to Sarah.

"Thanks," she returned coldly.

"Don't worry," Casey said. Then the Humvee went over a concrete barrier and on a road that lead back to the departures for terminal 2. After clearing the barrier, the Humvee headed straight for an airport shuttle bus. Casey turned the wheel hard to the right and the Humvee slid sideways into the shuttle sending it into the other lane of traffic. The shuttle driver jerked the wheel to his right to get the bus back on course and the whole vehicle flipped onto its side. Behind this display, cars skidded as drivers rearended other drivers piling up cars and blocking all the inbound lanes.

Chuck saw the sign for the RER station B that sat between terminals 2D and 2F.

"Oh good, the train. Okay, we'll split up. Sarah and I will get on the airport shuttle to the other RER station. Casey, you take Morgan and Alex and get on the RER B2 or B4, whatever is quicker. We'll meet you at the apartment as soon as we can. If you beat us to the apartment, the caretaker for the rentals is named Peter. He lives in the building, apartment 1B. He's waiting for us."

Casey slid the Humvee to a stop and all four doors opened. The police were still in pursuit, but the mass of tangled cars Casey left behind made it difficult for them to get up to the RER station. Everyone grabbed a bag, leaving the rifle case in the Humvee. It wouldn't be possible to conceal it as they traveled the Paris Metros. Chuck and Sarah sprinted for the tram that ran between terminals. The electric train had just arrived. Crowds of people waiting for the shuttle turned to see the accident and the Humvee that caused it all. They watched as Sarah and Chuck ran toward them.

Casey, Alex and Morgan disappeared down the steps to the RER station, hopped the turn-style and caught the B2 line just before the doors to the car closed.

"Well Alex, what do you think of a Paris honeymoon?"

"That sounds nice Morgan. Do you think we could take my dad with us?" she smiled up at Morgan as she spoke between heavy breaths.

"It wouldn't be a honeymoon without him, would it John?" Morgan sat down heavily in a chair. Alex sat down on his lap and put her arm around the back of his neck.

"Just look alive. We don't know what kind of description they have of us. Here," he reached into his bag and pulled out a cap and sunglasses, "put this on." He handed them to Morgan. He took out a second hat for himself and put it on. He pulled out a long sleeve shirt and pulled it over the black t-shirt he had been wearing. "Alex, maybe you could put your hair up?"

She flipped up her hair and tied it into a knot behind her head. It wasn't much, but it was the best they would be able to do for now.

Meanwhile, Chuck and Sarah slid through the crowd of onlookers, many of them pointing at them and back at the Humvee. They got on the arriving shuttle and road it to the next RER station. Once off the shuttle they made their way to the bathroom. Chuck looked in the mirror, washed his face and began changing into other clothes. A white dress shirt, blue jeans and a red and blue striped tie took the place of his black t-shirt and black denim pants.

Sarah effected a similar change, slipping out of her black slacks and black long sleeve shirt and putting on a red blouse and white denim pants. She let her hair down and took a minute to freshen up with a few splashes of water.

Chuck and Sarah met up outside the bathroom and walked hand in hand through the RER station, doing their best American tourist impression. Chuck went to the window of the RER station to buy a ticket, but all he had in his pocket were Kenya Shillings. To his left, he spotted a Bureau de Change. "We'll have to change our shillings to Euros."

He and Sarah walked to the bank. After they exchanged their currency and purchased two passes for the RER, they were on their way to Paris.

"Well, that was easier than I thought," Chuck said as the set their bag in an overhead space and sat down.

"Casey's plan worked pretty well," Sarah said.

"Hey," he started to put his hand up to her chin, but thought better of it and pulled his hand back down, "are we okay?"

"Sure. Why?" Sarah asked. She looked down at her hands and played with the ring on her finger.

"Well, you know. With last night and all. I just want you to know..."

"Chuck, listen. I want to talk about this with you, but we can't really talk here can we?"

"No, I guess not. When we get to the room then?"

"Right."

After close to forty minutes, Casey, Morgan and Alex stepped out of the RER at Chatelet and took the #4 to Montparnasse. According to the address Chuck gave them, the apartment was a short walk from this stop. Walking up the steps at the Montparnasse station, Alex got her first look at Paris. The first thing she noticed was the bright lights of the Gallery Lafayette. Not the main store north of the Champs Elysees, but the smaller satellite store here in Montparnasse. They headed southwest down Boulevard de Vaugirard one block, past a bank and teller machines.

At the next road the turned right and their apartment was right there on the corner. They rang the bell for apartment 1B and the door buzzed allowing them in. In the lobby, Peter handed them two room keys and they went up the elevator. Casey got off on the fifth floor and Alex and Morgan continued up to floor six. They got off the elevator and walked down the hallway to 6D. Morgan opened the door, but before Alex could walk in he stopped her.

"I know it isn't official yet, but it's supposed to be," and with that, he picked Alex up. "It's probably the best shot we are going to have at a Paris honeymoon." He carried her across the threshold and into the main room of the apartment and set her down with a kiss.

The apartment consisted of three rooms, a bathroom, a small kitchen and living/bedroom/dining room with a fold up bed in the wall. The wall opposite the fold up bed was entirely windows. The they walked, hand in hand, over to the windows. From this view they could see a big domed building they would later come to know as Les Invalides straight ahead and a little their left they had a perfect view of iconic Eiffel Tower. A small table and three chairs sat right in front of the windows and a bottle of wine and two glasses waited for them on the table. They sat at the table, opened the wine, and sat together talking while lights all over the city winked to life as the night grew darker.


	14. Chapter 13

It was nearly ten at night as Sarah and Chuck arrived at the door of 6 Rue Armand Moisant. The lobby door was locked, but they pushed the button for room 1B and Peter met them.

"Sorry we're so late. It was more difficult getting out of the airport than we expected," Chuck said.

"I am so sorry. I heard there was a great commotion there. That must have slowed you down considerably," Peter handed two keys to Chuck.

"We did see some traffic tied up," he looked to Sarah then back to Peter. "Well, we're bushed. If you don't mind, I think we're going to hit the sack."

"Very well, if there is anything you need, just let me know. I hope you enjoy your stay."

Chuck and Sarah rode the elevator in silence. At one point, Sarah caught Chuck looking at her. She returned his awkward smile with a smile that was just as uncomfortable.

Once on the sixth floor, they walked down to apartment C. Chuck worked the key and they entered a newly refurbished studio. It had the same view Morgan and Alex's apartment had. Chuck and Sarah could see Eiffel Tower on the left, ablaze in sparkling lights, and the lit dome of Les Invalides on the right through the floor to ceiling windows that made up one wall. A tan leather couch sat facing the windows. Behind the couch was a bank of frosted glass sliding doors that opened to small bedroom. "Um, do you mind if I take a shower first or..." Sarah asked.

"No, not at all. Go ahead. I'll get my bag unpacked and see if I can't begin working on covers for us at the symposium."

"Check the emergency email address to and see if your mother or Ellie has checked in."

"Will do." While Sarah took her bag into the bathroom, Chuck plopped down on the couch, placed the laptop on a small glass coffee table in front of him and opened it up. He grabbed the remote on the table and turned on the television. France 24 in English came up by default and Chuck watched a two minute story on the chase and crash at the airport earlier that day. To his relief, there were no good shots of the 'crazed terrorists' who crashed their military style SUV and disappeared into the metro system. Some eyewitnesses recalled seeing a 'stunning blond' and a 'gangly dark haired man' pushing their way onto the RER. "Gangly?" Chuck said aloud to no one in particular. "I think I've buffed up nicely. Gangly," he furrowed his brow.

Chuck connected to the WiFi and logged into an old AOL account reserved only for emergencies. "You have mail." Chuck smiled and opened the only email in this account. It came from , his mother's emergency account.

"_Chuck. I was able to get Ellie, Devon and the grandchildren to the safe house. Everyone is okay and I am certain we weren't followed. Ellie is reading Emma a story as I write this. She has been a little restless, but she's tired out enough now to sleep well, I think. Everyone here is on edge. Is there anything I can do from here? Now that the family is safe I am free to move about freely. Let me know what you need. I don't want to send the number for the new cell through unsecured email, but I'm sure you can figure it out from the summer cottage. Take care. Your mother_."

Chuck remembered the summer cottage well. It was a beautiful little place in the foothills of the San Bernardino Mountains. The address was 333 Willow Pass - all threes. Converting every third letter in the first thirty letters of the email into numbers gave him a ten digit phone number. He would have to buy a cell phone tomorrow that he could use to give them a call.

Chuck checked his work email next. Among the twenty or so emails, one sender stood out. It came from Kissing Santa.

"Charles. We need to talk. While I am still employed with the same company, I am not exactly in management anymore. I am afraid that the company is thinking about redesigning an old prototype with the intention of putting it into mass production. Apparently some recent breakthroughs have encouraged them to believe this old project is worth revisiting. Would like to talk more. Skype - KissingSantaATyahooDOTcom ."

Sarah walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her, drying her hair with another towel. "Anything from your mom?"

"Yes. Emma is good. A little fussy, but good."

"Any pictures?"

"No. Probably doesn't want to risk it. I also got an email from General Beckman."

"What did she say?"

"I'm not sure. She was using a code of sorts." Chuck set the laptop down on the table and began walking to the bathroom. "I think we're okay for now. Beckman made it sound like the CIA is interested in reviving the Intersect program. It's possible Delgato is actually working for them again."

"Or that Fulcrum has gained some traction inside the CIA."

"Beckman did say she was out of management. I'm going to jump in the shower. Maybe we can finally talk when I get out. You know, after we're both able to sit and unwind a little."

"Sure. That'll be good." As Chuck headed into the shower, Sarah picked up the laptop and read both emails. She came away with the same conclusions as Chuck. The CIA was in the Intersect business again. Sarah heard the shower stop so she slipped into some panties and a t-shirt and slid open the frosted glass doors that led to the bedroom. She crawled into the right side of the bed and pretended to sleep.

Chuck came out of the bathroom and walked into the main room. He saw the door slid back and Sarah tucked away in bed. He turned off the lights, closed the laptop and climbed into bed next to her.

"I know you aren't asleep yet. It's okay, we can talk about everything tomorrow."

After a minute Sarah answered, "No, now is okay."

They both lay back to back not speaking for a few minutes. Then Sarah rolled to her back and broke the silence. "Do you know the last time I was myself?"

Chuck didn't answer. He just lay there with his back to her.

"I was seven. Since then I have had, I think I've lost count, thirty or forty different names, lived in dozens of different cities. Someone's always given me a different name so they could use me to get what they want, my dad, the CIA."

Chuck said nothing.

"I can't shake the feeling that this whole new life is just some long con. Except this time I'm the mark. I've set all this up to try to fool myself into believing I might have a normal life. But really, how could someone like me think I could deserve a normal life."

Chuck pulled the covers a little tighter across his shoulders.

"This is where you're supposed to interrupt and tell me that I'm wrong. That I deserve all of this," she smiled in the dark. "I know I'm being silly."

"You haven't been yourself since you were seven? Then who did I marry?" Chuck asked.

"You married me Chuck. I'm just not sure who 'I' am sometimes. I mean, I have no family, no constants, nothing to ground me."

"You may not want to believe this, but you know exactly who you are. But maybe it is like you said yesterday, I'm just beginning to see it."

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know Sarah. You shot those two guards in cold blood. They didn't even have guns. You had a tranq gun on your hip. You did that Sarah. You."

"Yes, but if they would have..."

"They didn't. And you shot them. I'm not sure either of us deserve a normal life?"

"You don't mean that. That's all you've ever wanted, as long as I've known you."

"Whose the one being conned now."

Sarah sat up. "That's not fair."

"I know," Chuck sighed and pushed the covers off his shoulders. He got out of bed. "I need some water. You need anything?" he asked in a flat tone.

"No, I'm okay."

"Okay." Chuck went into the narrow galley kitchen and found a glass. There were two bottles of Evian in the refrigerator. He poured a glass and walked over to the kitchen window and looked out over Paris. A single search light circled atop of the Eiffel Tower. On the balcony to the left of theirs Chuck could see a couple. She stood pressed against the rail and he stood behind her, arms wrapped around her, his head on her shoulder. As he looked a little longer he recognized them as Morgan and Alex. They were laughing, Alex occasionally leaning her head back to kiss Morgan.

Chuck finished his glass of water and went into the main room of the studio apartment. He sat on the couch and looked out the wall of windows. Sarah had turned to face the wall and clutched her pillow as her body shook with sobs. Chuck could hear her. He stayed on the couch until he finally fell asleep.

Chuck woke with a crick in his neck and the sun streaming through the window from the left. Sometime during the night Sarah must have slid the frosted doors to the bedroom closed. He could hear her drawing in deep breaths of a sound sleep. He went to the refrigerator and poured another glass of water in the same glass from the night before.

There was nothing to eat in the kitchen, so Chuck decided to go foraging for some breakfast. After throwing on some khaki slacks and a blue button up shirt, he headed down the hall and into the elevator. It stopped on the fifth floor and the door opened. Casey stood there.

"Bartowski," Casey said as he stepped in.

"Casey. I'm going out to find some breakfast. Interested?"

"I'm not hungry. I won't be able to eat until I have this back to Verbanski," he pulled a contact lens case out of his pocket. Chuck assumed the chip was inside. "I'm going out to get a cell phone so I can call Gertrude."

"Could you make that two, as long as you are going?" Chuck asked.

"Yea, sure Bartowski. Anything else you need? Some conditioner? Something to trim your cuticles?"

"Casey, we've all had a rough few days. I'm not sure it's doing anyone any good to take that kind of tone."

"Speak for yourself Bartowski. My dry wit amuses me to no end."

"Right. Well, I've been thinking, we have to get Morgan and Alex out of here today," Chuck said.

"I agree. In case they can still track this chip, I need to lay low and wait out Verbanski. You get the kids on the next flight out."

"I don't know if the airport is the best idea right now. I was thinking Chunnel to London and fly out Heathrow," Chuck said as the doors opened.

"Good thinking Bartowski. We're right across from the Montparnasse train station. I'll buy them two tickets with a personal credit card I have under a different name. We'll get them out today." Chuck and Casey left the lobby together. Casey started across the road to the train station.

"Sounds like a plan. Let's meet back here in about thirty minutes."

"Roger that Bartowski. Try to keep your head down until I get back."

As Casey walked across the boulevard to the train station, Chuck headed south to a small patisserie. He bought four croissants and four pain chocolates and returned to the apartment. When the door opened on six, he stopped first at apartment C and knocked lightly. Alex came to the door dressed in Morgan's shirt.

"Ah, yea. Good morning Alex. Umm... I got you guys some breakfast. I thought you might be hungry."

"That's great Chuck. Thanks so much. Do you want to come in? Morgan's in the shower."

Chuck was looking for a reason not to go back to his apartment right away, so despite Alex's inappropriately short nightshirt, Chuck accepted the offer. "Sure. I need to divide up the croissants, then I'll leave you two alone."

"No hurry. Morgan will probably be in there a while. It takes him some time to soap up all of that hair."

"Ah, yea... That may fall under too much information. I'll just be dropping these off and I'll get going," Chuck started digging in the waxed white pastry bag.

"I'm sorry Chuck. I was just kidding. But seriously, is everything alright? I mean, we all heard Sarah in the plane yesterday. Is she okay?"

"Oh yea, she's fine. You know. A spy's life and all. Sometimes the stress gets to you. Where would you like these?" Chuck held out two croissants and two pan chocolates.

"Just put them on the table. Do you want some coffee? I just made some."

"You guys have coffee here?" Chuck asked.

"Sure. There was a coffee maker and some packets in the cupboard. Black?"

"That would be fine. Thanks."

"You know Chuck, I understand about the stress and all, but Sarah - she's not exactly a spy anymore. She's a wife, a mother. That changes a woman."

"Yea, you would think so. Oh, thanks," Alex handed him a cup of coffee.

"It does Chuck. She can't possibly think about just herself anymore. Everything she does, she does for Emma and you."

"Alex, I appreciate your help, but Sarah's different. She's always been on her own. I don't know if..."

"All the more reason she needs you and Emma. You know what it's like to think you've lost a family, only to find it again. I thought my father was dead. The day I saw him again, well it was the best day of my life. He means more to me than almost anyone."

"Yea, I guess.'

"Think how much more it means to Sarah. You and Emma are all she has in the world. If she loses the two of you, what does she have?"

These words caught Chuck's breath. He suddenly realized what turning his back on her last night must have done to her. "You're right. Alex, I have to go. I have serious apologizing to do next door," Chuck set the coffee cup down and headed for the door. Just before he grabbed the door handle, he turned back to Alex, "Thanks Alex. I really needed that."

Alex just smiled and said, "Go. I'll turn up the radio here so we don't hear too much of the making up."

"You guys a have a radio?"

With two quick knocks on the door, Chuck put the key in, unlocked the door and walked in. "Sarah, I got you some croissants. A couple of them are filled with chocolate. Sarah?" The sliding door to the bedroom was open and the bed was empty. Chuck stuck his head into the bathroom - empty. When he walked into the kitchen, he saw a note laying on the counter.

"_Chuck, You're right. I know who I am. I'm a spy, a liar and a killer. I'll find Delgato, figure out who he's working for and make sure you and Emma are safe. Please tell Emma her mommy loves her and if she could, she would have given up everything to be a great mother to her. But you and I both know that's impossible. She needs someone kind, loving and compassionate. She needs you. All my love, Sarah._"


	15. Chapter 14

Dressed in all black and carrying a duffel bag that would immediately land her in jail if anyone searched it, Sarah Walker strode through the Paris Metro station with a rough outline she was going to call a plan - for now. She would take line 4 to Chatalet, then take the 14 the Francois Mitterrand Public Library. There she could access the Internet get more information on the symposium today at the Brain and Spine Institute. A floor plan and schedule would do for now. If she was real lucky, maybe she could track down Dr. Lomahnov and have a little chat with him about integrating computers and the human brain. Even though the Metro cars were packed with Parisians on their morning commute, plenty of obliging men were interested in giving up a seat for the stunning blond dressed all in black.

Stepping lively up the Metro station stairs, Sarah walked toward the four huge glass right angle buildings that make up the Bibliotheque Francois Mitterrand. She went down the stairs to the west wing of the library and found a map to the computer terminals. It only took four circuits around the bank of computers before she was able to slide into the seat of a patron who failed to logout correctly. She printed maps of the layout of the Brain and Spine Institute and a copy of the symposium schedule as well as uploading copies to her iPhone. Finally, she searched on the good Dr. Lomahnov.

Nothing.

No published articles, no pictures, no record of his research or a practice. Even if Dr. Lomahnov was just a cover, any intelligence agency worth its salt would fabricate an extensive fake web presence. Either this guy was some reclusive genius or he was the worst fake on the planet. Last stop on the web, the location of a couple of cute clothing stores. Sarah would need to get herself a professional looking 'scientist suit' so she could slide into the symposium and check out this Lomahnov herself. Delgato would almost certainly be there, so maybe some glasses and a wig would be in order as well. She uploaded a few addresses into her phone, logged off the computer and headed out of the library.

-O-

Chuck headed down to Casey's apartment and knocked on the door. Casey's room was laid out exactly like Morgan and Alex's apartment. The bed was folded out and the sheets were rumpled.

"Oh, it's you. They were out of conditioner, but I got you this," Casey tossed a cell phone to Chuck.

"Thanks Casey. Hey, you didn't see Sarah out on the street anywhere, did you?"

"No, why? You two still having a little lover's spat?"

"She's gone."

"Gone?" Casey asked.

"Yea, like left a note gone," Chuck sat down on Casey's bed.

"Well Bartowski, I would like to offer you some words of comfort or support, but I don't do comfort or support."

"Right. Why would you?"

"Well, what did the note say? She heading back to Chicago?" Casey began packing a few thing into his duffel bag.

"No. She said she would get Delgato and whoever else is behind all of this."

"By herself, huh? It sounds like a little of the old Sarah Walker. About time."

"I know you think you need to be all... all John Casey to complete a mission, but I think she isn't planning on coming back this time."

"Bartowski, she's going to be walking blind into a nest of CIA, Fulcrum and who knows how many other nefarious creatures all gunning for her. She probably isn't coming back."

"Don't worry, that's not my wife or the mother of my child your talking about. By all means, give it to me straight."

"Grow up Bartowski. What are you planning to do now Mr. Intersect?"

"I … I don't know."

"Great. Well, as much as I would like to be around to watch you screw this up, I just heard from Gertrude. She's en route from England. I'm meeting her in Luxembourg Garden in an hour. Oh, and there's a change in plan for Morgan and Alex. I chose the Verbanski Corp. black helicopter over the Chunnel for my little girl. I'm sure you understand."

"She's going to land a helicopter in a public garden?" Chuck raised his eyebrows.

"Apparently when the U.N. is as interested in something as they are in this little chip, there isn't much you can't do," Casey stuffed the last few items into his duffel bag, zipped it closed, threw on a black windbreaker and started for the door. "You coming?"

"No. I have to get in touch with Beckman and my family, then figure out what I'm going to do about Sarah."

"Listen Chuck, Sarah knows exactly what she's doing. If she wanted help, she'd of asked you. She left without you - take the hint."

"You can't really believe that Sarah would leave Emma, leave me, like this."

"I did it. Sometimes it is the only way you make sure the ones you love are safe. You want my advice, let her go. It might be the only way that little girl of your has a shot at a normal life," Casey paused in the doorway. "Good luck Bartowski."

Chuck sat on Casey's bed for a few minutes longer, then the took the disposable cell and dialed the number his mother gave him.

"Hello?" it was Chuck's mother.

"Mom. It's so good to hear you. Listen there's too much to fill you in on, just tell me, how's Emma?"

"She's fine Chuck. She's eating and I think your sister has found the trick to quieting her when she starts to fuss. Now, how long do we have to hide out here?"

"I'm not sure. All I've been able to figure out so far is that the CIA has taken up Dad's work again. They think they have some new approach that will make mass producing the Intersect a viable option again," Chuck said.

"So why do they want Alex? Or you?"

"Casey was guarding a new microchip and he slipped it to Alex to hang on to until the people at Verbanski could come pick it up. Delgato got wind of this and used it to lure me into going all Intersect while at the same time getting us to bring the chip and me right to him."

"So he knows you have the Intersect?"

"Yes. I'm afraid that's not a very well kept secret anymore. Anyway, we got Alex and the chip back, but now we're in Paris. Sarah is off trying to find Delgato and Casey is evacuating Alex and Morgan by chopper in under an hour."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to meet up with Sarah and help her bring down Delgato and the CIA techs who are dusting off the Intersect research," it wasn't entirely a lie. He would try to meet up with Sarah.

"You need me to come out there? You might need another set of eyes and ears not that Casey is leaving."

"Thanks Mom, but I need you there with Emma. Nothing is more important than her safety right now."

"Well, it makes me feel a little old sitting here on grandma duty, but I certainly understand. Okay, call if you need anything, you hear me."

"Yes mom. Thank you. Give Emma a kiss for me, will you?"

"I will. Call me and let me when you are clear and heading home."

"I will. Mom?"

"Yes Charles?"

"I love you."

"I love you too son. Take care of yourself."

Chuck hung up the phone and headed upstairs. Once in the apartment, he flipped open this laptop and opened Skype. He connected to KissingSanta. General Beckman, in civilian clothes with her hair down, greeted Chuck.

"Mr. Carmichael, it is good to see you."

"Thank you General. It is still General, isn't it?"

"Yes, for now. As you may have guessed, the winds of change have blown though the intelligence wing of our government. Factions that were previously aligned with the principles of Fulcrum and the Ring are currently making policy decisions."

"I'm sorry to hear that General. Is there anything I can do?"

"Doubtful Mr. Carmichael. I am working with a few long time military advisers to expose these newly appointed agents. I'm confident we will be able to gain back control of the intelligence division within the month. Until then, all I can tell you is that you are in a great deal of danger."

"Thanks, I was pretty sure all wasn't well when Delgato was sipping Diet Dr. Pepper on my couch."

"The little bit of intelligence I can gather all points to the fact that while Delgato is now a top level player, the Intersect project is being headed by some hidden CIA genius. We haven't been able to ascertain the identity of the mastermind, but we do think he is in Paris with Delgato right now."

"Let me guess, at the Brain and Spine Institute?"

"Correct. Good work Mr. Carmichael. The symposium is a cover for a demonstration of the new Intersect project. Why the CIA feels the need to show this technology off is beyond me."

"Do we have any agents in the area that might be able to help me get in there and break up this little entrepreneurial endeavor?" Chuck asked.

"I'm sorry Mr. Carmichael, if we did, I wouldn't know. Like I said, I have been reassigned for now. A situation I will have remedied in a matter of days - possibly weeks. It goes without saying that when I am back in place, I will contact you to offer what assistance I can. You and your family have earned at least that much."

"Thank you General. Good luck."

"And to you Mr. Carmichael."

The general terminated the connection and left Chuck sitting there with more questions than answers.

Chuck opened a blank word processing document and started a two column sheet. On the left the typed "Assets" on the right "Liabilities". On the left he listed the following: Surprise, Intersect. The right side contained this list: Outnumbered, Easily recognized, Out-gunned, No cover, Unknown target, No Sarah, No Casey, No Beckman.

"This should be fun," Chuck sank down further into the leather couch. He grabbed a _pain chocolate_ from the bag next to him and absentmindedly bit off an end.

-O-

"I just got off the phone with Langley. They are not pleased with your progress so far Agent Delgato." Delgato sat in a windowless office on the fifth floor of the Brain and Spine Institute. He used the speakerphone while he worked on the terminal in front of him.

"I understand Dr. Lomahnov. I know things don't look great right now, but we have every reason to believe that Chuck and Sarah will come to us," Delgato answered.

"What about Col. Casey and the chip?" Lomahnov asked.

"We have agents moving into position to take possession of the chip as we speak. As a matter of fact, I have a visual on the park right now. We should have the chip in a matter of minutes."

"You'd better hope so. I'll be delivering my paper this afternoon and I would like to be in position to demonstrate some of my claims."

"Why is the CIA interested in publicizing the Intersect project anyway? That seems like something they would like to keep covert," Delgato asked.

"I don't question orders Agent, and I suggest you do the same. I figure with knowledge of this weapon becoming public, the CIA is hoping to re-instill confidence in their ability to carry out effective small team covert operations. Apparently the brass at Langley wants to prove to the gathered minor dignitaries that we are at least as powerful as Twitter when it comes to toppling governments."

"I see."

"Okay Agent Delgato, I'll leave you to get my chip back. I will see you this afternoon," and with that Lomahnov hung up. Delgato devoted his full attention to the computer terminal where he had surveillance feeds from various areas in Luxembourg Park. He put on a headset. "Agent Schlieve, report."

-O-

The cafe across the street had just opened up and Sarah sat down at one of the tables facing the street. "Un cafe si vous plait," Sarah said to the waiter as he handed her a menu. She tried to make sure she ordered a croque madame at least once when she visited Paris. Some cafes did it better than others, but even a bad croque in Paris beat a good croque almost anywhere else in the world. That and a side of fries would do for an early lunch.

Sarah watched the faceless crowd pass in front of her, allowing the rhythm of the crowd to calm her. She forget about the mission for a moment. Her mind drifted to home, Chicago, and Emma. All of the things Sarah had accomplished in her life - missions she completed, lives she saved, times she kept the world from falling into chaos - it all came at a high price. In order to stay alive and keep the world safe, she had to live with the screams, the tears, the faces contorted in death. Emma could never find out what her mother had to do to get by in this world. How could she possibly ever explain the men she seduced, the murders she committed?

Chuck only knew some of what Sarah had done in the service of her country. In so many ways Chuck was such a boy. For too long she used the reflection of herself Chuck cast to see herself the way he saw her. And that worked, until now. No, this is what she was called to do. This was the person she was destined to be and she was good at it. At least now she was fighting for a cause she believed in more deeply than any patriotic rhetoric the CIA doled out: her family.

-O-

Casey, Alex and Morgan reached Luxembourg Gardens without a hitch. Casey checked his watch. Five minutes until the helicopter arrives. He ushered Morgan and Alex over to a bench and the three of them sat down. Alex and Morgan drank in their last few moments in Paris.

"We have to come back and have a real vacation," Alex said.

"Anything you desire my princess. The Buy More can certainly survive without the Billy Dee Williams of management for a few weeks," Morgan said.

"The what?" Alex smiled.

"I don't have any idea. Sometimes things just come out of my mouth without checking with my brain. You know, it's part of what makes me so charming."

"Oh, so that's it. I forget sometimes," Alex nudged him with her shoulder.

"I find that hard to believe. There's so much going on here," he ran his hands down his body, "I feel a little sorry for you. How could you have ever stood a chance."

"It was over before it started," Alex smiled and leaned over to kiss him.

Casey, standing a few feet away, checked his watch again. He should hear blades shortly. Surveying the area, Casey began to get an uneasy feeling. Nothing looked obviously out of place, but he began noticing patterns in the crowd. He let is eyes unfocus as he scanned the park again. There was definitely two different patterns of movement among the people in the park. One mass of people flowied like water around fixed obstacles, as you would expect in a public place like this, but there was something else. A series of fixed points spaced evenly around his current point. He noted these fixed points and focused on them. Crepe vendor, woman with fashion magazine, man on the phone, couple looking at a city map, city worker sweeping, mother sitting next to a stroller. Any of these people alone would be perfectly innocent, but he had seen this before. He had set up nets like this before.

He walked over to Morgan and Alex, "Get up. We're going."

"I don't see the chopper, are we early?" Morgan asked.

"This doesn't feel right. I am getting you two out of here before..." Casey stopped mid-sentence as the sound of a far off chopper far finally reached him. "Okay, maybe we're clear. In any case, take this." He handed a .9mm to Morgan, "Keep it in your waistband. If things get rough, just get Alex to the helicopter."

"No problem."

-O-

Chuck finished his research and concluded that he had no better idea as to how to get in now than he did three hours ago. One main entrance on the ground floor with two emergency exits to the north and west. There was a service entrance on the east. If he could start there, he may be able to slide in unnoticed find a janitor's uniform and try to identify Delgato. If he could tail Delgato, maybe he would lead Chuck to the person behind all of this. It wasn't much of a plan, but he knew full well his plans rarely panned out anyway.

Chuck grabbed a shoulder holster from his duffel bag and strapped his tranq gun on under his black wind breaker. He locked the door behind him and headed down the elevator.

He headed into the Metro and checked the map to find the best route to Saint Marcel. Looked like line 6 to Place d'Italie, then line 5 for two stops. Piece of cake.

-O-

It almost killed Sarah to buy a pants suit size 40. It didn't help much that after the conversion from French sizes to US, it reduced that number to a size 10. It took longer to convince the shop clerk to help her pad her perfect figure to fill out the (gulp) size 40 than to pick out the outfit in the first place. Looking in the mirror with the dark wig and dark rimmed glasses in addition to the new padded pants suit, Sarah didn't recognize herself. There was no way anyone at the symposium would recognize her either. She traded in her duffel bag for an oversized Guiseppi Zanotti shoulder bag. It held her arsenal nicely and would draw less attention than the duffel bag. Not to mention, it felt good to treat herself a little.

She picked up a crepe with Nutella from a sidewalk vendor and got back on the 14 to Gare d'Austerlitz then grabbed the 5 south one stop to Saint Marcel. It was much more difficult getting a seat on this trip. Apparently French men aren't as interested in the comfort of the pleasantly plump working woman. Sarah checked her watch, 1pm. Dr. Lomahnov was speaking in about an hour. That should give her plenty of time to slide in, find the hall and take a seat near the back. With any luck she would be able to follow the doctor after his lecture and find a nice secluded place to … chat.

Up the stairs of the Metro station, Sarah took a quick right and walked into the front doors of the Brain and Spine Institute. On her right just through the door there was a reader board with all of the researchers names, rooms and floor numbers. Sarah quickly memorized a few female doctor's names. Through a set of double doors, Sarah found a table on her left that held name badges for attendees of today's event. Most of the badges were gone, which was good thing. Much less chance one of these people showing up this late in the afternoon. Cheryl Lambert - Henry M. Jackson Foundation. Good name. She felt a little like a Cheryl today and the Jackson Foundation was well known for its work with the military.

Affixing the name tag to her black striped pants suit, Sarah walked into the main lobby for the Brain and Spine Institute. Before she headed to the lecture hall for Lomahnov's 2pm, she decided to tour the facility. She studied plans for the interior, but it couldn't hurt to get eyes on the exits and possible defensible positions. She trudged up a set of stairs to the right of the lobby in her stuffed pants suit only to walk past one office door after another - all locked. With all the men and women roaming the hall, it couldn't be a secure area. Heading back to the stairs, Sarah tried one more floor up. The doorway out of the stairwell was secured by an electronic keypad. The one small window in the door revealed nothing unusual about the floor. Just more doors and more people walking the hall. The other door led to the continuation of the stairwell. This was the end of the road unless Sarah could run the decoder on those doors quickly. This didn't leave her with many options. She rode the elevator down from the first floor. Any access to floors above one required a key card and a pass code.

The elevator doors opened and Sarah stepped out into the lobby. She headed to the lecture hall to get herself a good seat for Dr. Lomahnov's talk. The hall filled steadily with doctors and researchers in nice coats and suits. Most looked legitimate, but occasionally Sarah would spot an unusual bulge in the side of a coat or in the middle of a back at the belt line. She carefully noted the location of these agents. Her suspicions were eventually confirmed by the way they spread out creating an almost perfect web around the hall. By the way they were unnaturally avoiding eye contact with each other, Sarah assumed they were working together.

-O-

Chuck walked up the steps at Saint Marcel and made his way through a gate and into the maintenance area for the Institute. A guard and his partner approached Chuck as he headed for the back door. "Excusez-moi monsieur, avez-vous la permission d'etre ici?"

Chuck flashed, "Oui. Je suis le concierge nouvelle." He explained to them that he was the new janitor in French. The man on the left checked a clipboard while the man on the right took another step toward Chuck. He flashed again. A right to the jaw of the approaching guard crumpled him to the ground. The other guard dropped his clipboard and reached for his mace. In one movement, Chuck took a hop step, spun and caught the guard in the temple with his heel. Dazed, but still standing, the guard unclipped his mace and raised it in Chuck's direction. Before he could squeeze down on the top, Chuck knocked the can out of the guard's hand with a sweep of his left forearm, then swept his leg and finished with a palm extended into his chin.

Chuck looked around. No one saw him. He lifted the keys off both of the guards, opened the back door and dragged them, one by one, into the guard room just inside the door. He dressed as one of the guards then cuffed each of them to a radiator in the corner, gagged them and bound their feet.

He gave a quick look to the monitors and saw people gathering in the lecture hall. He flashed on several of the faces in the crowd. Warlords, insurgents and low level diplomats from countries currently friendly to the United States filled the lobby. This was no scientific seminar. Just as Chuck was turning to exit the guard room, his head snapped back to one of the monitors. She looked like Sarah, but a lot heavier - and brunette. But no, that was definitely Sarah.

-O-

The helicopter was about six feet off the ground and everyone in the park couldn't believe their eyes. Parents grabbed their children and people walking their dogs tightened their grip on the leashes as many of the pets turned to bark at this giant bird invading their park. Morgan grabbed Alex's hand and headed for the center of the clearing while Casey took one last look around. All of those fixed points he saw began to converge. Casey drew one pistol in each hand and began to drop one target after another. One by one agents drew concealed weapons and began to fire back. He continued to run for the clearing, making slow circles as he worked his way in the same general direction as Alex and Morgan. He stopped behind whatever cover the park provided, statues, planters, benches, and erased a few more targets before moving to the next defensible position. Morgan began to draw the .9mm when Casey shouted, "Leave it. Just get her on the chopper."

By now the crew of the helicopter began to provide some cover as well. Casey looked to the woman with the baby carriage just as she drew a shoulder mounted rocket and unfolded the stock. Before she could level the weapon the helicopter, Casey put a round in her shoulder. She dropped to one knee, let the rocket launcher hit the ground and tried to apply some pressure to the wound.

Alex and Morgan were aboard amidst the hail of gunfire and Casey motioned for the pilot to take off. Both of his guns were empty and all of the agents' fire was concentrated on the helicopter now. Two men grabbed Casey from behind and restrained his arms as he watched his daughter and Morgan lift away to safety.

"Well Col. Casey, let's hope you still have what we need," one of the agents shouted in his ear.

"I've got nothing I'm going to give you," he spit back as the men cuffed him.

"We'll see about that. Get the car."


	16. Chapter 15

_Author's note. For some reason, when I posted my last update (Chapter 14) most of you didn't get a notice about it. If it seems like something is missing, that's probably it. You may want to go back and read 14 to see how Chuck, Sarah and Casey get here. _

_As always, thanks for reading and reviews are greatly appreciated._

Dr. Lomahnov walked into an out-patient surgical room at the Brain and Spine Institute where Delgato and three other agents had Colonel John Casey strapped down to the chair.

"Sorry doctor, but he was very uncooperative. We had to knock him out. I'm not certain questioning would have helped us much anyway, old school NSA tend not to be very forthcoming."

"No problem Agent Delgato. With this," Dr. Lomahnov took out an iPhone, "I should be able to see if the chip is somewhere on him, or in him for that matter." The doctor turned on the locator and began moving it over Casey's body. He stopped at the abdomen. "Ah, here it is. Looks like he swallowed it. Good job Agent Delgato."

"Thank you sir. I'm just happy to be working again. Sitting in a cell for over seven years has really made me hungry for the game. So, would you like us to get that out of him?"

"I'm on in just a few minutes. I can't take the time to gut Col. Casey right now. He'll have to wait until after. Make sure he stays put until I get back."

"No problem sir."

-O-

The lights lowered in the lecture hall and a single spot shone down on the podium in the center of the platform. "A bit dramatic for a scientific seminar," Sarah thought.

From the left of the platform a single man, dressed in a black pinstripe, two button suit with a dark red shirt and matching dark red tie walked into the light. His hair was close cropped and a neatly trimmed beard framed an otherwise boyish face. Sarah had seen him somewhere before. She tried to picture him without the beard but it wasn't clicking. If only she could flash, or if she had never flashed, she might be able to put face, name and reputation together in one recognizable package.

"Gentlemen, ladies. Thank you for coming out to this symposium. I am certain you will find today's presentation to be the highlight of the event." He walked back and forth on the platform, pausing only briefly at the podium to consult notes before walking to the other end. The voice helped. Not only was she certain she had met him before, she had a vague recollection of apprehending him. Chuck was there too. She could see them by a Nerd Herder. Then she saw red digital numbers. A clock radio? She hadn't seduced him, had she?

"The human brain has always been considered the greatest supercomputer on the face of the Earth. But even though this machine is capable of incredible things, it does have its limits. Memory and recall are often arbitrary and capricious. Skills once learned are forgotten without regular repetition. Physical limitations cause agents to eventually fatigue. Ladies and gentlemen, we have found a way to avoid all of this. It is with great pride I introduce to you H.I.P. - the Human Intersect Project. Please, take a moment and watch this video."

The spotlight went out and a projector threw a title onto the wall behind Lomahnov. "Lomahnov Presents - The Human Intersect Project." The film faded in on a shot of Kibera and a small group of locals crowding around a white van. She then proceeded to watch as she and Chuck lept from the van to the rooftops. She couldn't help but wince watching herself face plant on the building.

"Notice how only one of these two agents is able to perform each move accurately, conserving energy while delivering each blow with the maximum possible impact." Sarah continued to watch herself on video as she dove from the roof into the crowd. She and Chuck fought back to back and she had to admit, Chuck did look a little better than she.

Lomahnov continued his narration, "Watch how she fatigues. There! See how he not only dispatches the man in front of him, but then aids the other agent by taking out an attacker that outflanked her." Sarah fought the urge to defend herself. "I had a baby eight weeks ago. Let's see you come back that fast," she thought.

"Then her fatigue leads to poor judgement. Watch as she approaches these two men, armed only with ax handles. She also has a tranq gun. Certainly her physical exhaustion causes her to act rashly." Sarah watched herself gun down the two unarmed men. "Imagine the international incident this agent could have caused if that act of unwarranted violence was perpetrated on a civilian." The film ended with a freeze frame of Sarah's face looking backward just before she and Chuck ran into the culvert, her eyes a mixture of anger, regret and exhaustion. The spotlight hit Lomahnov again as he walked back to the podium.

"Now, the most amazing part of all of this? The woman has trained for over twelve years by the time of this fight - the man, less than five. And truth be told, he peaked almost immediately after receiving the Intersect." He paused to let that sink in with the audience. "Imagine, an instant corp of battle ready agents. No extensive training, no errors and incredibly reliable, time after time."

-O-

Chuck had made his way from the guardhouse headed toward the lecture hall in his newly acquired guard's uniform. He came around the corner to find a locked door with two armed guards in front of it. Chuck flashed and began to speak to them in French.

"Gentlemen. Have you seen any unusual traffic here?"

"No. Who are you?" the left guard asked.

"What do you mean, 'Who am I?' How dare you. Give me your name," Chuck reached into his breast pocket looking for a non-existent notepad.

"Stop right there," both men drew guns. "Get your hands up. Where is your ID badge?"

"It's right," Chuck looked down as if he expected to see a badge. "Hey? Where did my..." he could see they weren't buying it. "Oh, just forget it." Before either guard could get off a shot Chuck flashed. Left foot to the gun hand of the guard on his left and left palm across his body into the wrist of the guard on his right. Both guns fell to the floor. From that point on it was pretty routine. Kick a gun out of the reach of the man bending over for it, grab the wrist of the man who threw a punch at Chuck. He used the guard's momentum to propel him past Chuck and brought his knee up sharply into the guard's chest. He heard the air expel and felt ribs crack. As he stepped over the man he just laid out in front of him, he moved forward, kicking and striking the other guard, occasionally parrying blows until, with the palm of his hand to the guard's nose, the guard fell unconscious to the floor.

Chuck used their own cuffs to restrain them and dropped the cuff keys in his pocket.

-O-

Back in the lecture hall, Lomahnov continued to pace back and forth on the platform. "Ladies and gentlemen, as a special treat for you, we have one of the stars of this little film with us here today. I present," Dr. Lomahnov paused for dramatic effect, "Agent Sarah Walker. Stand up for us Agent Walker." A second spotlight trolled the crowd. "Don't be so shy Agent Walker." The spotlight finally stopped on Sarah and the agents she identified earlier as packing weapons began to slowly stand up and converge on her seat. As the first agent was about three feet away from her, she sprang up and struck the man with a potent combination punch, followed by a kick to his midsection. Reaching down to her calf, she slid her pants leg up slightly and revealed four throwing knives. The first hit its mark about five feet away, but before she could fire off another, a rather large man got behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and pinned her arms at her side.

"Now, now Agent Walker, surely you can see when you are outnumbered. 'She who fights and walks away,' and all that." Lomahnov smiled as he stepped to the front of the platform, "Bring her up here boys," he said. "A veteran agent, as you can see, but nothing compared to the Intersect." Two men, one on each side, wrestled Sarah up to the platform. "Now Agent Walker, isn't it a fact that you had a version of the Intersect in your head for a short time?"

"Go to Hell," Sarah shot back at him.

"We'll take that as a 'yes'. You see the rather hack version of the Intersect Agent Walker had actually robbed her of her memories little by little each time she used it. Who knows how many years of experience she lost. But our new version employs a tiny implanted micro-processor, the most powerful and smallest micro-processor in the world, to circumvent direct access to the agent's own memories. Not only does this insulate the agent from harm, it utilizes the brain more effectively. Past generations of Intersect technology require a subject be exposed to some outside stimuli to 'turn on' the Intersect. In my new version, it's always on. Agents have access to the entire contents of the uploaded information at any time." He turned back to Sarah, "Wouldn't that have been nice Agent Walker?"

Sarah struggled against her captors briefly then stared straight into Lomahnov's eyes. The feeling that she knew him grew even more acute.

Chuck reached the door of the lecture hall just in time to hear Lomahnov say to his agents on stage, "Take Agent Walker backstage for now please." Then to the assembly, "History tells us that if any one country, any one power, holds the key to ultimate victory in war, the world becomes a very dangerous place for us all. That's why great minds like the American President Ronald Reagan knew that potentially game changing technology had to be shared equally with everyone. That was his hope for SDI, and that's my hope for the new Intersect. Today, I will be taking orders from you for a share of the Intersect pie. For a mere $50 million, your country can have access to the technology necessary to create an army of super agents. In a moment, I will display a website. Register here for a chance to..."

Chuck had heard enough. He burst through the door and headed directly for Dr. Lomahnov.

"Finally, our second guest has arrived. Please, a round of applause for the man you saw in the video - Intersect 3.0."

The crowd hesitantly clapped as Chuck continued at a strong steady gait straight toward Lomahnov.

"Now watch as I demonstrate how our new Intersect 4.0 makes the version you witnessed in the video obsolete." With this, Lomahnov took off his suit coat and leaped to the floor in front of the platform. He walked calmly up to Chuck. Chuck flashed, but as the flash was just finishing Lomahnov had already landed a flurry of blows that sent Chuck reeling backward to the wall. Dazed, Chuck tried to assume a defensive posture until his head cleared. He parried two blows, but a third came so quickly, in the form of a kick, that the next thing Chuck knew he found himself laying face up on the floor.

Sarah took advantage of the momentary distraction to stab the pointed heel of her stiletto down through the foot of the guard on her right. His grip loosened and she worked her arm free. She then drove the edge of her right hand deeply into the esophagus of the guard on her left. Both of his hands went to his throat as he gasped for breath. She then turned back to the man on her right and delivered as sharp blow to the back of his neck, sending him into a heap on the floor. The man on her left was now on his knees and trying desperately to get some air. She kicked him in the temple and he too fell unconscious to the floor. Grabbing each man's side arm, she headed back to the platform.

Lomahnov stood over Chuck and continued to speak to the crowd, "You see, the continuous access provided by the XV24, the world's fastest cpu, gives me just the edge I need to defeat the man you watched dispatch dozens of attackers on tape."

Chuck flashed again. "Lazlo? Is that you?"

"You remember me Chuck? I'm flattered. Do you also remember how you and your team condemned me to a life locked in a box developing toys for the CIA?"

"Lazlo, buddy - you didn't leave us much choice. You were going to blow up hundreds of innocent people."

"Innocent? No such thing. Complicit by vicinity I say." He heard Sarah's footsteps behind him and he drew a gun. "Stop right there Walker or your husband dies." Sarah stopped, her guns aimed directly at Lomahnov. The crowd in the lecture hall waited eagerly to see if this new Intersect would be worth the purchase price. Lomahnov's remaining agents had drawn on Sarah. Lazlo turned to the agents in the crowd, "Don't worry, I've got this. You can put your guns down." He turned back to Chuck, "No more bench time for me Chuck. With the Intersect, and my new friends in the CIA, there's nothing I can't do, nowhere I can't go."

"Lazlo, I understand exactly how you feel. Do you know how many times they told me to wait in the car? But trust me if you take this step, if you shoot me in cold blood, your life will never be the same."

"That's exactly the point Chuck. I don't want to go back to my old life, ever." With that, Lazlo spun around, dropped to one knee and fired a silenced shot into Sarah's midsection. Chuck arched his back and sprung to his feet as he watched Sarah fall to a heap on the floor. Before he could take a step in Lazlo's direction Lazlo had turned and fired a single shot into Chuck's chest and everything went dark.


	17. Chapter 16

Chuck saw the bright white light and tried to head toward it. He couldn't move his arms or legs, but the light was clearly shining ahead of him. Then he heard a voice, gruff and booming. "God? Is that you?"

"No you idiot, it's me, Casey."

Chuck tried to focus his eyes, but the bright light and blinding headache made that impossible.

"You were tranqed not shot moron. Trust me, when you get shot you can tell the difference."

"Sarah? Is she here?"

"Yes, still out cold."

Chuck tried to look down, but he couldn't move his head either. It seems someone strapped him into a chair. Not only were his arms and legs strapped to a medical procedure chair, his head was held fast with an array of straps. Someone inserted an IV into his arm. "What's going on? What's Lazlo up to?"

"Lazlo? You mean Lazlo Mahnovski that little brainiac we apprehended about seven years ago?"

"Yea, the same guy that designed just about every cool spy gadget you and I have ever used. He's Dr. Lomahnov."

"I can't believe they let that little nut job out," Casey said.

Chuck was able to focus a little now despite the bright light shined directly onto his face. "He's got a version of the Intersect in his head. He used it on me."

"Chuck? Are you okay?" Sarah's voice came from the opposite side of the room from Casey.

"I'm okay Sarah. Are you alright?"

"Fine. It looks like you're prepped for some procedure. You're in a medical gown."

"I thought I felt myself sticking to this chair," Chuck arched his back to try to peel some of his skin off the vinyl. "Whatever he's planning, I don't think he's started yet."

Sarah was handcuffed and shackled to a chair on one side of the room and Casey was tied to a chair on the other side of the room with one inch rope. The room looked to be a standard outpatient procedure room. An array of monitors lined the wall at Chuck's back. Electrodes were hooked up to Chuck's chest and head. A bank of surgical lights shone down on Chuck. Directly ahead of him was the one door to the room.

"Casey, can you get free? I'm tied down pretty good here," Sarah said to Casey.

"I'm tied pretty tightly also. I think I still have a knife in my boot, but I can't reach it. I'm going to try to get a little closer to you." Casey began to shift his weight in the chair, inching it closer to Sarah. He had a long way to go before he could reach the other side of the room.

"Sarah, listen. I want to apologize," Chuck began.

"Chuck, this really isn't the time," Sarah answered.

"Yes, it is. I said some really terrible things to you last night and I need you to know that I didn't mean them. Any of them."

"Chuck, can we talk about this later?" Sarah asked while she struggled to reach her lower calf. The padded pants suit allowed for just enough play in the shackles to work her legs up near her fingers.

"No Sarah, this can't wait. I need you to hear this. You know that there are some aspects of this life I never really understood, but I have always known one thing: you would do anything to keep me safe, to keep us safe. I thought all of this was about being a spy again, but now I think I understand."

"Chuck, everytime we try tried to quit the spy life something pulled us back in. That something has always been us. We needed this. We couldn't let this life go. But this time is different - since Emma it's different. Most people dream of a life of adventure - exotic locations and dangerous situations. I've never known anything but that. My dream is a porch swing and lemonade. Every day that we're away from Emma makes me realize that I'm not this person anymore. And I hate myself for doing what I've done, but if it gets us - gets you - back to our daughter, then I'll do it."

"Sarah Walker, you are, and will always be, the most amazing woman I have ever met. Can you forgive me for ever doubting you?"

"If Lazlo is going to come in to kill us, I wish he would do it now," Casey said as he continued to make slow progress toward Sarah.

"Lazlo? Now I remember that name," a light went on for Sarah. "I knew he looked familiar. But how did he get free?" she paused for a second remembering what she had just witnessed, "And get the Intersect?"

As Sarah finished this sentence the door opened and Lazlo entered. "Very good question Agent Walker. Or is it Agent Bartowski now?"

Lazlo walked over to Sarah and looked down and saw her fingers reaching for her leg. "Trying to escape I see. I guess you can't tell that you don't still have these." He walked over to table near Chuck's chair and held up her pack of throwing knives. "What kind of field operative would I be if I didn't search you thoroughly before cuffing you to that chair."

He looked over at Casey's chair. "Ah, Colonel Casey. It looks like those ropes aren't quite tight enough. No worries, they don't have to hold you much longer."

He turned to Chuck, "But, first things first. Comfortable Charles?"

"Actually, I have a bit of a headache and these lights aren't helping much," Chuck answered.

"My apologies. Here, let me take care of that," Lazlo walked back to a row of monitors behind Chuck and hit a button. The lights shining on Chuck dimmed. "There, is that better?"

"Much, thanks. Now I don't suppose you have any aspirin? Tranq guns always leave me with a killer headache. Well, the darts actually."

"I'll send for something for your headache Chuck," Lazlo pressed a button.

"Yes?" a woman's voice came from the intercom.

"Could I get an IV for Bartowski here. Something to cut a headache?"

"I'll be right in sir," the voice responded.

"Thank you Lazlo," Chuck said. "Lazlo?"

"Yes Chuck."

"What exactly are you doing with me here?" Chuck asked.

"I was waiting for you to ask. The Intersect 4.0 is still a bit... unstable," Lazlo sat down on a wheeled stool and rolled over next to Chuck. "Don't get me wrong, when it works it really works. I can see things so clearly. The slightest muscle twitch telegraphs dozens of pieces of information that the XV20 processes in an instant and then sends instructions to every part of my body."

"XV20?" Casey asked.

"Yes Colonel. You have the 24 somewhere in here," Lazlo circled an area of his own digestive system with an outstretched finger. "Might be several hours until nature returns it to me. We're going to start you on a little polyethylene glycol and see if we can't flush that little gem out of you." Lazlo went back to the intercom and ordered two doses of the liquid.

"As I was saying. When this thing works, it works beautifully. Unfortunately, the XV20 tends to overheat a little and shut down at unexpected times. That's what today is all about. I'm hoping to use you three to perfect the Intersect 4.0."

"The three of us?" Sarah asked. "What use could we be?"

"Certainly you see the plan here Mrs. Bartowski," Lazlo walked over by Sarah. "Chuck is the success story, you the failed attempt and Casey over there a fresh subject. I use him to make sure what happened to you won't happen to all the paying clients I have out there. I'm hoping the exam will leave you largely unharmed, but I have to admit, that's not a top priority and I am a little pressed for time."

Lazlo walked over to Chuck, "This little gem on the other hand. You I'm going to take great care with - at first anyway. Somehow all of the problems I and others have had with the Intersect aren't there with you. I would really like to figure out why." A woman entered with an IV bag. "Thank you nurse. I'll run this for him. That'll be all." Lazlo began to set up the IV bag.

"Look Lazlo, I get it. You've spent years locked up under the CIA. You want to lash out. But, we aren't the ones who locked you up."

"Actually, you are Chuck. But, no matter. This isn't about something as petty as revenge. I'm a little disappointed you would think me so shallow Chuck."

"So what is this about?" Sarah asked.

"Money Mrs. Bartowski. What else?" As Lazlo finished setting the drip for Chuck's IV the door opened and Agent Delgato strode in.

"Lazlo, what's going on in here? We were supposed to get Chuck and the chip and get out of here. What's the holdup?"

"There's been a little change in plans Agent. We won't be returning Chuck to the CIA. Not until I'm done with him anyway."

"What do you mean?" Sarah noticed Delgato's hand moving toward a holstered gun. Lazlo walked back to the bank of equipment behind Chuck.

"I can't sell all of these nice people a defective product. I have to do a little more crash testing first."

"What are you talking about?" Delgato took a tentative step closer, and still on his gun. "The Intersect isn't yours to sell? The government spent billions on this. Do you think they did that so you could sell the Intersect for profit?"

"Maybe not, but I certainly didn't ask them to take fifteen years of my life away either. I guess the moral here is that things don't always go as planned," Lazlo turned to Chuck and smiled. "I guess this is a little about revenge."

"If you think I'm going to let you sell this technology, you're..." Delgato drew his service revolver. Before he could bring the gun up past his waist, one of Sarah's throwing knives from the tray next to Lazlo flew across the room and sunk deep into Delgato's chest. He collapsed to the floor.

"Looks like we need a cleanup in aisle four," Lazlo hit the call button. "Nurse. I need a couple of orderlies in here to take out a body please."

"Yes sir."

"Lazlo, stop and think," Sarah began to reason with him, "if you steal from the U.S. government, they'll find you."

"Oh Sarah, you forget. I designed all of the tools they could possibly use to track me. I'll be able to disappear very nicely, thank you," Lazlo hit the call button again. "I need someone to get the girl out of here and prepped please."

"Yes sir."

Orderlies came in with a gurney, picked up Delgato's body and wheeled him away. Lazlo busied himself about the room putting things in a plastic tub he picked up from the floor. Sarah's knives, Chuck and Sarah's wedding rings, even the knife Casey thought he had hidden in his boot. "Have to get all of the metal out of the room if we are going to use the MRI in here. Any bits of metal in you we should know about Chuck? Haven't been welding or anything lately, have you?"

"No. No, I'm good," Chuck answered.

"Great. Good to hear Chuck." Two men entered the room and walked over by the chair that Sarah was shackled to. "Careful with that one," Lazlo said. "She may look all pretty on the outside, but she can pack a punch."

"Yes sir," the men answered as they lifted Sarah, and her chair, and carried her toward the door.

"Sarah!" Chuck said as she strained against his restraints.

Sarah looked back over her shoulder as they carried her away and said, very calmly, "Chuck, I know. You love me."

"You love me too Sarah." He saw a smile begin to take shape as they carried her through the door.

"Well, wasn't that sweet. I'm going to love field work," Lazlo said.

"Look, Lazlo. I'll do whatever you want. I'll help you any way I can. Just let Sarah go."

"Come on Chuck. Aren't you even a little curious as to what went wrong with the Intersect? It was your Dad's crowning achievement and now you, your wife and I have a chance to see it perfected."

"You don't need her. You can see it work in me. That should be enough."

"I'm nothing if not thorough Chuck. Sorry." Lazlo walked over to Casey. All this time Casey had managed to expand and contract his muscles so he could slide the ropes down slightly, buying his legs a little room. When Lazlo was in range, Casey shifted all of his weight forward, planted his feet on the ground and used his body to swing the chair legs around toward Lazlo.

Lazlo easily leapt over the legs as they passed beneath him. He established his balance and delivered a blow to Casey's temple than instantly rendered him unconscious. Lazlo walked back to the call button, "Nurse. I'll need a couple of men to get Casey to a room. Then he needs to be sedated and fitted with a feeding tube so we can start the polyethylene glycol and I can get my chip back."


	18. Chapter 17

"Now Chuck, it's going to be very important that you relax." Lazlo rolled over on the stool and sat in front of Chuck so Chuck could see him despite the head restraint. "Listen, I know this looks bad, but I feel like you know me better than anyone else. I mean, we shared fries. And more than that, you know better than almost anyone else what it's like to be a pawn for the CIA."

"That's true," Chuck answered.

"Then I'm asking you to trust me Chuck. All I want is to get back some of what they stole from me."

"You have me tied to a chair in a gown. Trust doesn't really work that way."

"Okay, I wish I didn't have to tie you down, but we are going to check out how your brain reacts to the Intersect in the MRI. To do that, you have to be perfectly still."

"What about my friends?"

"I promise that they'll be safe. As a matter of fact, I can tie you into a feed for the rooms they're in so you can check on them for yourself. Would that be okay?" Lazlo got up and walked back to the bank of machines behind Chuck again.

"It would be a start, yes. Letting them go would be better."

"Look, here's what I want to do. I've read almost everything the CIA has on the Intersect and I have a few theories. First, it seems to be dependent somewhat on your emotions. If I read correctly, the Intersect 2.0 would fail to activate at times if you were too emotionally evolved."

"That's true. I did have to focus to flash. If I got too nervous or excited, it just wouldn't work."

"But that's better now because of the governor?"

"Yes. I'm pretty in control now."

"Okay," Lazlo sat back down in front of Chuck. "See, we're making very good progress. I'll have you out of here and on your way home in no time at this rate."

"What do you need me to do?" Chuck asked.

"Glad you asked. Here's what I'd like to do," Lazlo sat up a little straighter, big smile on his face. "I created this machine especially for testing the Intersect. I'm going to try it out on you. It's sort of an MRI and virtual reality hybrid. You'll recline and the MRI machine behind you will slide in over your head and shoulders. Inside the machine is a one-hundred and eighty degree screen that will feed you images that should make you flash. When you do, I'll be able to see how your brain responds on the screens in the next room. Brilliant eh?"

"Well, I wouldn't expect anything less from the CIA's golden boy."

"Right, well I'm going to send images to you that should make you flash. Because you're emotionally neutral at this point, I should get a pretty good baseline. Then I'll introduce some images that should cause you some stress then ask you to flash again. I'm hoping that flashes under an emotional stress will much demonstrate a much different pattern."

"Okay, I can go along with that I guess - not that you have given me much choice."

"Great, you relax and I'll get a feed of Sarah into the MRI for you so you can see that I'm keeping my word."

"And Casey?"

"Oh him. Yea, he's okay too. We sedated him and are pumping him full of stuff to get that chip out of him. Don't worry, we ran an IV to keep him hydrated."

"Okay, but you said you were going to test the Intersect on him. I can't let you do that."

Lazlo laughed, "You aren't in much of a position to 'let' me do anything Chuck." Lazlo thought for a moment, "But what kind of guy would I be if I hurt your friend. Fine. I'll find another guinea pig to try the chip on. With all of the these CIA stooges stationed here, it shouldn't be hard to find a willing subject."

"Thank you Lazlo."

Chuck's chair began to recline and a large doughnut shaped machine emerged from the cluster of machinery located behind Chuck. When he was almost prone, the MRI tube slid over him. Lazlo retreated to an adjacent room and spoke to Chuck over an intercom.

The screens flickered on and Chuck could see and hear Sarah as she sat in a room much like the one he was now in. She was still tied to her chair, but she had stopped reaching for the knives that weren't there. An attendant entered the room.

"Ms. Walker, is there anything you need?" the nurse asked.

"You could get me out of these cuffs. Listen, if you're CIA, I can make sure you're taken care of."

"That's very kind of you miss. But if you worked for the company, than you know how important it is that I do exactly as instructed by my superiors. Right now, they want to know if you need anything."

"I could use some water," Sarah said.

"I'll be back with that shortly," the attendant said.

The screens switched to show John Casey, unconscious and sitting on a portable commode. Someone hooked an IV to his arm and placed a feeding tube down his throat. Despite being unconscious, he looked unharmed.

Lazlo's voice came over the speakers, "See Chuck, everything is exactly like I said it would be. Feel better now?"

"I do. Thanks Lazlo."

"Good. Okay, let's start the test. I've set up this virtual reality so it will simulate the experiences that generally trigger your flashes. You should actually think that someone is attacking you." Lazlo was quiet for a few seconds, "Ready Chuck?"

"Shoot."

Chuck was standing in a hallway when a person sprang out of a doorway up ahead with a gun pointed directly at Chuck. He saw the man and flashed.

"Very good Chuck. Okay, just a few more."

A series of scenarios and images appeared on the screen in front of Chuck. Each time he flashed.

"Excellent Chuck. That gives me a great baseline," Lazlo said. "Now let's amp up the emotion a little and see how that changes the reaction. The screens once again showed the room in which Sarah was held. She still sat shackled in the chair they carried her away in. A bald man with round metal rimmed glasses and a white lab coat entered the room. He carried a clipboard.

"Okay Mrs. Bartowski, if you could answer a few questions, we would really appreciate it."

"What kind of questions?"

"We'll start with questions about your experience with the Intersect," the man looked down at his clipboard. "Okay, when you first flashed did you get a sense that you were losing memories?"

"No, not initially. It was only after a few dozen flashes that things began to feel... different."

"Very good," he wrote something down on the clipboard. "Now, when you say 'different' what exactly do you mean?"

"It wasn't physical pain exactly, just a light and a flash and a dull buzzing feeling. Soon I began to lose track of some of the details of my past."

"So did you stop flashing at that time?" the man asked.

"Not right away. I didn't have that luxury. I guess I knew the risks all along, but I thought I could control it."

"But you couldn't?"

"I don't know. Much of the last few weeks with the Intersect is still erased."

"Okay Mrs. Bartowski. Thank you for that. Is there anything else about the Intersect that you would like to tell us?"

"No. Well, only that I think it is a huge mistake to want to put that in anyone else. Chuck is the only person I have ever seen who could handle the emotional and mental stress that the Intersect puts on a person. I don't think anyone else can do it."

"I'll write that down. Thank you," he wrote some more on the clipboard. "Okay, I think I am done with you. I feel as though I owe you the truth as to what is going to happen to you next."

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked.

"You see, you are part of an experiment we are conducting in order to better determine how the Intersect interfaces with the brain's synapses. Right now, Chuck can see and hear everything you are doing. We have already run him through a series of flashes while he was calm and established a baseline. Now we need to see how he reacts when he is emotionally stressed."

"Yea, I don't think I like where this is going," Sarah said.

"I don't imagine you will. Ultimately, we are going to have to get a better look at the physical effects of the Intersect on your brain. The best way to do that will be through autopsy." Sarah's face fell blank. "But before we do that we are going to try to illicit a strong emotional response in your husband. I will be leaving for that part, and we will hand the experiment off to a professional." Sarah sat silently. "As Mr. Laslo's assistant, I've studied your file extensively. I'm truly sorry that your career has to end this way." With that, the man in the lab coat left the room.

Chuck's heart rate and blood pressure began to rise. "Lazlo, what are you doing? You promised. Leave her alone!"

"Sorry Chuck. This is the best way to get a read on how you react to extreme emotional stress. Besides, you heard the man. We have to get a look at the physical damage the Intersect may have done to Sarah's brain. We can compare that to your brain and hopefully make the Intersect 4.0 a much more efficient machine."

As Sarah sat alone in the room, a thin line of perspiration began to form on her brow. "Chuck, they said you can hear me. I hope you can. Yesterday I remembered that day in fall when we took walk along the beach together. You were so nervous, I thought for sure you were going to ask me to marry you. I was practicing my answer in my head the entire walk down the beach. How I would smile, how I would talk. Where I would place my hand and how I would extend my left ring finger. When you didn't ask, I wasn't disappointed - just curious. I was aware of the big Bartowski plan for proposal, but I was also aware that you missed your window, on more than one occasion. Just today I remembered your actual proposal in the hospital. I almost couldn't hear you over the darn polishing machine, but I knew exactly what you said."

Tears were running liberally down Sarah's face at this point, but she continued, "I never thought I deserved a life like the life you offered. I've lied or cheated people almost as long as I could talk. But you taught me that I am worthy of being loved." Tears streamed down Chuck's face also as he gripped the arms of the chair tightly.

"I want you to know that I'm the person I am today because of you. I never thought I would be able to leave the spy life. A life of lies and deception. Part of me never wanted to have to actually be the person I was under all of the lies. But you made me believe in me and I've never wanted to be me more than I do right now," the door opened and a man came in. He wore a white lab coat identical to the coat worn by the other man, but this man was much bigger with thick brown hair and a hard chiseled jaw. He carried a small briefcase. He opened the briefcase to reveal a series of knives a hammer and some pliers. There was also a syringe loaded with a clear liquid.

"Chuck," it was Lazlo's voice now, "that man is going to torture Sarah right before he injects her with that dose of potassium chloride. While you watch, I will interrupt the feed with images that should make you flash. Let's see how the response differs."

Sarah looked at the man and the items in his case then back to the camera. "Chuck, I know you love me, that you have always loved me, and that's all that has ever mattered."

The man struck Sarah across the face, causing a small cut above her lip. Next he came back with the back of his hand against the opposite side of her face. Sarah stared directly at him and spit blood onto his white coat. Chuck, with his head still strapped to the chair, closed his eyes, but as he heard each blow he couldn't help but open his eyes.


	19. Chapter 18

Lazlo watched Chuck's heart rate, blood pressure and brain activity react to Sarah's torture. "Okay Chuck," Lazlo was talking more to himself than to Chuck at this point, "let's see how that thing... what?"

Before Lazlo could send the stimulus, Chuck flashed. He saw the diagram for the chair Lazlo strapped him to. He saw the plans for the MRI he currently sat in. He figured that the magnetic pull on the chair at one specific point provided just enough stress so that if he moved his arm quickly like this... Chuck broke his left arm free. His hand flew to his head and released the straps that held him in place. He could still see the room where Sarah sat, chained to the chair. Her torturer reached for a pliers now. Sarah simply stared icily at him. Chuck had both hands free and released his legs. In a moment he ran for the door.

Locked. Chuck dashed to the console at the other end of the room and flashed. He shut down the MRI and hit a button that should have released the lock on the door. On his way back to the door, he grabbed the amputated chair arm. He opened the door, flashed and started to swing at the figures in front of him.

The first man countered each of Chuck's first two punches then caught him square in the chest with a kick from his left foot. Chuck dropped the arm of the chair and staggered back into the room as the two men followed him in. The other man reached for his firearm. Chuck waited as the first man advanced quickly on him, posed to strike Chuck again. A left cross glided past Chuck's chin as he leaned back slightly to let it pass. Chuck delivered a sharp blow with his left hand while he grabbed the man's left cross with his right and used his momentum to pull him around. He twisted the man's left around an up behind the middle of his back. He wrapped his other arm around the attacker's neck. Both men now faced the agent with the gun.

"I'll shoot through him to get to you, if that's what you want," the man said. "Hollowpoints go through pretty cleanly."

Chuck shoved the man he held hard toward the armed agent and charged. At the sound of the shot, Chuck had already hook slid into the agent he just pushed, tripping him and sending both men sprawling. Chuck continued to slide to the pile of struggling agents on the ground. Like a base runner sliding into second, Chuck popped up as his foot it the pile. Several sharp blows to the head and face of the two men and they were out. Chuck disarmed both of them and put one pistol in his back waistband and held the other in his right hand.

Heading for the doorway, Chuck heard more footsteps coming down the hall. He entered the hall poised to face the next attacker. The man shrunk back with his hands up over his face, "Hey, Chuck. Hold up. It's me." It took Chuck a minute to recognize the short man with the bearded face in front of him.

"Morgan? How? Never mind. We have to get to Sarah and Casey."

"Done and done," he smiled at Chuck. "Anything else you need? A little back rub? You must have had a pretty grueling day."

"Wait? How? Morgan, you shouldn't even be here."

"You kidding, and miss the big rescue. No way. Hey, you said I would be important to this mission before we were done. I guess you were right."

"I didn't really mean it buddy. I just said that because you looked so down. I never thought... How did you find us, much less break in here?"

"Okay, I guess I had a little help." Chuck could see a woman round the corner over Morgan's shoulder. It was his mother.

"Hurry up boys, we have to get going. Someone's going to have to help us carry Casey. He's not quite up to walking yet."

"Mom? What about Ellie and the kids?" Chuck and Morgan followed Frost down the hall.

"They're fine. Ms. Verbanski assigned a detail to them. I called her just as soon as I got off the phone with you. There was no way I was going to leave my son and daughter-in-law to go up against the entire CIA alone."

"But, how did you know?"

"Let's just say Beckman still owes me one or two. While she hasn't worked her way back into command, she still has some friends on the inside. So far her intel has been pretty spot on. Here, this way," Frost stopped in front of an unmarked white door and opened it.

Sarah stood over Casey. She was removing the IV and unstrapping him from the chair. Two men lay unconscious on the floor. "Nice to see you again honey. I could use a little help here." Sarah, a cut on her swollen upper lip still wore the oversized pants suit, but she had removed all of the stuffing. The material hung loosely on her.

"Here, let me help," Morgan pushed past Chuck and unstrapped Casey's legs. "Come on Dad, wake up."

Sarah left Casey to Morgan and turned and walked straight over to Chuck. Neither of them said a word. Sarah put both of her hands on Chuck's face and pulled him tightly to her lips. Chuck pulled away, "Your lip. It's cut. I don't want to hurt..."

"Shut up and kiss me," she pulled him in again. Chuck put both hands on her sides and slowly slid them to her back. He loved the way the muscles at the small of her back tightened as she rose to him. Their lips parted, but the embrace remained. Chuck rested his forehead against Sarah's as they both looked down. "Let's get home to Emma," Sarah said quietly as a smile spread across her face.

Frost opened to door to check the hallway while Morgan continued to struggle with Casey. "Um guys, I don't think Casey is waking up here and he's a little too big for me to cart around."

Sarah went over to a well stocked medicine cabinet and flipped through a few bottles until she found what she was looking for. "Here. Find a hypodermic and inject him with this. It won't wake him up instantly, but it'll help him come around faster."

"Until he comes to, you just lay low with him here while we clear a path out," Frost said to Morgan. "According to my watch our support should be here right about... now."

Right on Frost's mark explosions rocked the Institute. "I couldn't keep Gertrude from coming for Casey. She has a tactical squad infiltrating as we speak," Frost said. "All we need to do is secure a route to the front door."

"Do you think you can take care of that Mom? Sarah and I have to go after Lazlo. He not only has a version of Dad's Intersect, he knows how to build more. We have to find him and stop him."

"I'll be fine, you and Sarah do what you have to do," Frost looked back down the hall. "But take these," she handed him two comm units. "If you two aren't in front of this building in twenty minutes, I'm coming looking for you."

"Thanks Mom," then he turned to Sarah. "Ready?"

"Let's go."

Chuck tossed the .9mm from his right hand to Sarah as they headed back to the exam room where Lazlo was experimenting on him. As they turned the corner, they surprised two armed agents.

"Stop. Hands in the air," the agent on the right said. Chuck flashed. He looked at Sarah and smiled. He put his hands up about shoulder high and stepped toward the agents. "That's far enough," one agent said.

Chuck kept walking slowly toward him. "Look, why don't you guys just tell me where Lazlo went and Sarah and I here will let you go away unharmed."

The two men smiled. One agent looked at the other briefly to see if he was enjoying this as much as he was. He was, but it was short lived. The instant he turned to look at his partner Chuck had disarmed him with a lunging downward chop with his left hand. He then swung his left foot around to propel him toward the other agent. While this leg didn't connect, he landed perfectly on his left foot, toe pointed back in Sarah's direction. The brought the right leg around as he spun to disarm the second agent as well.

With both guns clinking to the ground, Sarah slid her 9mm into a pocket and charged the man on the left. The stunned agent took a few steps backward and quickly shook his head to reassess the situation. Before he could get his hands up Sarah landed two blows, a left cross and a right uppercut. The man's head snapped back and things began to go dark. A roundhouse from Sarah sent him crumbling to the ground.

Chuck made short work of the other agent. Parrying two punches, Chuck collapsed the man's left knee with a sharp downward step from his left leg. As the man clutched his dislocated knee, Chuck drove his right palm downward into into the side of the man's face.

Chuck headed over to the computer. "Let's see if I can find the control room where Lazlo was monitoring me." He plunked away on the keys while Sarah collected more guns.

"What is this thing?" Sarah asked.

"Lazlo made it to monitor my brain via MRI while he made me flash. Wait. Here it is. Okay, I think I can also open all the doors from here." Chuck's fingers flew across the keyboard. "Got it. Let's go."

They headed out the door, turned left and entered the second door on the left. The wall on their left contained a control center filled with flatscreens and a high tech video switcher. Some of the screens showed the rooms of this complex - Chuck's exam room, Sarah's torture room, Casey's procedure room - others held cued video segments clearly designed to induce a flash. A door on the opposite side of room stood partially open. Sarah collected her set of throwing knives from a table near the center of the room then she ran for the open door.

"Hang on a second," Chuck punched a series of buttons on the switcher and images on the flatscreens changed. The front door, filled with Verbanski troops. The roof of the institute with a empty helipad. Frost, Morgan and a semi-conscious Casey moving down a hallway. Agents flooding the foyer fighting off Verbanski commandos. Chuck put his hand to his ear, "Mom. The foyer is filled with CIA agents. If you take the hallway past the elevators instead of going into the foyer, you will come out in an alley just north of the building. You should be able to circle around and get back to the entrance from the outside." Chuck hit some of the cameras that captured the perimeter of the building. "The outside looks all clear."

"Thanks honey. Remember, twenty minutes or I'm coming in."

"Yes mother." Then to Sarah, "I don't see Lazlo anywhere, do you?" He continued to punch up different cameras.

"There," Sarah pointed to one of the flatscreens. "He's heading for the roof." On the screen Sarah pointed, Chuck saw Lazlow sprinting up a set of stairs.

"The elevators are this way," Chuck said as he headed back through the door they came in. The moved through two more hallways before they came to a bank of elevators. Just as Chuck pushed the button, the doors on the left car opened. Chuck pressed "12" and the door close button and the elevator began to climb.

Chuck and Sarah stood side by side looking at the numbers light one after another. Debbie Boone music played over the speaker. As floor six lit, Chuck looked over to Sarah and smiled. She looked at him and smiled back. "I'm never sure exactly what to do with all of this adrenaline when I'm in the elevator," Chuck said.

"I like to take the time to do a quick mental inventory. Six knives, about twenty rounds in two clips. That kind of thing."

"That's a good idea. Funny that's never come up before. Let's see. One gun, one Intersect, one super spy wife. Yep, I'm good to go."

The doors opened on twelve and Chuck and Sarah headed to the stairwell on their left. One flight of stairs up and they opened the door to the roof. Lazlo stood about thirty feet away, gun drawn and pointed at the doorway and now, at them.

"You two got here quicker than I expected. No matter, I've got the drop on you. Now, put your guns on the ground," he waved the pistol downward to emphasize the command. "Slowly."

Chuck and Sarah raised their hands in the air, each holding their gun, and slowly placed the gun on the rooftop.

"Good. Now, why don't you both walk over here to your left," he gestured with the gun again. "As much fun as it might be to shoot you, I'm a little curious to see how this baby," he tapped on his head with his left index finger, "works against your Intersect. What do ya say Chuck? You and me, mono a mono?"

"Drop the gun and it's on," Chuck said.


	20. Chapter 19

_Thanks to those of you who have selected this for notices and favorites. If you have any opinion on this at all, please take a moment to review. My goal is to finish in the next week or so and then do a complete re-write. Would love your input on that. I don't own Chuck, but I would be willing to invest in a Kickstart project. (Fedak, Schwartz - you out there?)_

"Alright Lazlo, I'll bring the Intersect out to play, on one condition," Chuck said.

"There you go naming conditions again while I'm holding all the cards," Lazlo said. Then after a second, "Okay, I'm curious. What's your condition?"

"If you win, you let Sarah go."

"Chuck, you don't have to do anything..." Sarah said.

"I know," he cut her off, "but one of us has to make it off this roof alive."

"Sure Chuck, that sounds fair," Lazlo started to lower his gun. "Here, cuff yourself to that rail," Lazlo threw a pair of handcuffs to Sarah. After she reluctantly finished he turned to Chuck. "You ready?"

"Ready when you are," Chuck began walking toward Lazlo.

Lazlo put his gun into a holster he wore under his left arm and advanced. Chuck flashed. At first the two simply parried blows - each anticipating the other's attacks. It was clear that each Intersect had a similar hand-to-hand routine programmed. When Chuck attempted a kick to the side of Lazlo's head, Lazlo raised both of his arms and twisted his torso to his left to catch the blow with his forearms. Out of the corner of his eye, Lazlo caught Sarah ducking down. He caught the next one of Chuck's punches and pulled Chuck in front of him, much like Chuck did earlier in his escape from the examination room. Lazlo spun Chuck around just in time for one of Sarah's throwing knives to graze Chuck's left shoulder.

"Now now Mrs. Bartowski. You don't want any holes in your husband do you?" Lazlo drew his gun again and held it on Sarah as he controlled Chuck by holding his left arm up behind his back. "Toss the rest of the knives over here," he motioned to place about ten feet from her. "Good," he holstered his gun again, "next time you move, I'm going to break my promise to Chuck here. Got it?"

Sarah nodded.

Lazlo released Chuck's arm and Chuck spun to face Lazlo again. Just as he turned Lazlo caught Chuck in the side of the face with his right heel with a roundhouse kick. Chuck staggered backwards.

Lazlo pressed forward landing blow after blow, alternating between Chuck's face and body. Chuck did his best to raise his hands to cover up, trying to give his mind time to refocus on his target.

"It looks like the 4.0 has a slight edge," Lazlo said, panting between blows. "This is going to be so awesome in the field."

"Chuck!" Sarah started to lean toward the combatants. Lazlo drew his gun and fired a shot at her feet.

"I warned you, don't move!" Chuck looked over to make sure Sarah was okay and Lazlo smashed him in the face with the butt of the gun. Chuck fell to the ground covering his head with both of his hands. Lazlo continued to rain punches down on Chuck. Many of them glanced off of his arms, but many others landed on the side of Chuck's head, his ribs and his face.

"Come on Chuck, get up," Lazlo backed off, gave Chuck a little room to breathe and holstered his pistol again.

Chuck arched his back and flipped to a standing position. This time he advanced on Lazlo. Lazlo parried each of the blows, but he Chuck could see he was beginning to tire. _He may have the Intersect_, Chuck thought, _but he hasn't been training as long. He's bound to wear out, if I can just hold on._

Finally, Chuck was able to land a straight right, followed by a left hook. Lazlo seemed to be having a problem holding his arms up. Chuck moved forward more confidently now. Kick - parried. Uppercut - parried. Left hook -

Lazlo ducked under Chuck's left and took his breath with two sharp blows to his stomach. An left uppercut and a straight right and Chuck was off balance again. Lazlo wasted no time now, he was either going to suffocate him with body blows or knock him unconscious with blows to the head. Chuck fell to one knee with his hands up over his head. Lazlo continued to alternate lefts and rights.

"Chuck, just run. Get out of here," Sarah cried as she strained at the handcuffs.

As things began to go dark, Chuck could see his mom, dad and Ellie. It was his ninth birthday party - the last one they celebrated as a family. He could taste the cake his mother made and see the smile on Ellie's face as he read her handmade card. Then he saw he and Ellie on their first mother's day. How grown up they felt and how grown up Ellie looked as she made dinner for Chuck. He and Morgan on the day his dad disappeared. Morgan didn't say a word, and it was the best thing he could said that night. Years later, Ellie was waving to him as he left for Stanford. Although medical school, and Devon, had consumed so much of her life, her pride made Chuck feel like the most special college freshman in the world.

Then Chuck was looking up from a phone call at the Nerd Herd desk at the most beautiful blond woman he had ever seen. Cell phone in hand, Chuck came to her rescue, or so he thought. The kiss in front of what they were both convinced was a bomb, the almost proposal, the proposal, the wedding. Those horrible months after Sarah lost her memory. The birth of Emma. His entire life, everything that mattered. His last flash.

"Come on Chuck, give me a little challenge anyway. This chip is just starting to warm up."

Something Lazlo said clicked. It wasn't a flash, he just remembered what Lazlo said earlier about the XV20. "Project Isis," Chuck said. Lazlo paused briefly while the details of the recently declassified mission passed through his mind. "Jonas Zarnow, Volkov Industries," Chuck added.

Sarah joined in, "Yuri the Gobbler, Guy LaFleur."

"Jill Roberts," Chuck said. Sarah looked over at him and even though he was still covering his head with his hands he could feel her eyes boring into him. "The GLG-20, Mr. Morimoto, Glass Castle."

"Dr. Martin Kowambe, Daniel Shaw, Alexis White," Sarah added.

Lazlo's squinted and dropped to his knees. With both hands, he grasped the back of his head, just above the nape of his neck and closed his eyes. Doubled over, Lazlo started a low quiet moan. Chuck stood up and walked over to him as the moan grew to a cry and eventually a yell as Lazlo sank to his knees.

"He said it tended to overheat. Nice work Chuck."

Chuck fished the handcuff keys from Lazlo's pocket and tossed them to Sarah. She uncuffed herself and walked over next to him. She used the handcuffs on Lazlo. Even with his hands cuffed behind his back, Lazlo continued to lay in the fetal position on the gravel of the rooftop moaning in pain.

"What do we do with him now?" Chuck asked between deep heavy breaths. "Not only does he have the Intersect in his head, he knows how to make more."

"And we can't turn him over to the CIA. They've sponsored all of this research," Sarah added.

Frost spoke through the comms, "The Verbanski helicopter is en route. Just sit tight. She'll put him on ice until Beckman can get things settled at the CIA. That was some quick thinking son."

"Thanks mom," Chuck walked slowly over to an air conditioning unit and leaned heavily against it. Sarah walked over, took off her jacket and used it to dab some of the blood from his face.

"Scars add character," Sarah smiled as she tended to the wounds.

"Sure, but won't they ruin my boyish good looks?"

"Not a chance," she kissed him lightly on the cheek.

After about five minutes Chuck could hear the inbound helicopter. They handed Lazlo over to Verbanski's men. "Be careful with him. He doesn't look like much, but he can be deadly."

"Yes Mr. Carmichael. Would you two like a ride?"

"No thanks. We'll take the elevator," Chuck said.

The helicopter took off and Sarah put her arm around Chuck and headed back to the door. They collected their weapons and slowly walked down the flight of steps.

Once in the elevator, Sarah hit the button and Chuck turned to her, "Let's see, broken ribs - check. Cut lip - check. Intersect - check. Super spy wife - check."

"You do seem to have it all," Sarah smiled and kissed Chuck again lightly on the cheek. She kept her arm around him as the doors opened. Frost, Morgan and Casey were seated in the lobby waiting for them. The lobby was littered with wounded and dead agents for both the CIA and Verbanski Corp. A Verbanski medical team tended to both. They sedated the CIA agents before plugging up their wounds.

Frost and Morgan walked over to the elevator. "Dude, you look like John McClane at the end of Die Hard."

"Which one?" Chuck asked.

"All of them man," Morgan said.

"We need to get going," Frost said. "All of the wounded are loaded up and we have done what we can for the CIA agents. It won't be long before the police show up."

"I can't believe they aren't here yet. How slow are they?" Chuck asked.

"Actually, you can thank Beckman for that. Apparently she was stationed here at some point in her past and made a very important friend in the 36," Frost said.

"The 36?" Chuck looked puzzled.

"The Paris police department," Sarah said.

"Would anyone else want to read a Beckman tell-all? That woman's really been around." Sarah turned her eyes down and Morgan shivered slightly. "Okay, maybe just me."


	21. Chapter 20

"Nice work team," Beckman said through the screen of Chuck's laptop. Mary Bartowski and Casey sat at the small table right in front of the wall of windows while Sarah and Chuck sat on the couch that ran along the wall perpendicular to them. "If you'll give me the location of Lazlo, I'll have a team there to extract him in under an hour."

"So are you back in command General?" Sarah asked.

"Of course Walker. Why wouldn't I be?" the general snapped.

"Sorry General. It's just that the last time we talked you indicated..."

"Whatever I you think I indicated, I am telling you that we will get a team to secure Lazlo as soon as you send coordinates. Is that clear Ms. Walker?"

"Perfectly General," Sarah leaned back slightly as Chuck look at her and raised his eyebrows.

"As for the two of you and your team, if you send us your location I will also arrange your safe transportation home," the general continued with a steady gaze.

"Thank you General, but Verbanski Corp. has already arranged to..."

"I insist Mr. Bartowski," the general interrupted, her gaze remained fixed. "I will expect an email with your location in the next few minutes."

"Very well General. Umm... Thank you, I guess," Chuck said.

The general terminated the conversation and Chuck and Sarah found themselves staring at a Skype title screen.

"That was odd," Chuck said. "I mean, the general has always been wound a little tight, but ..."

"She was a little more abrupt than usual," Sarah finished.

"She's a United States Army General. She can't be expected to discuss every little detail with you two, can she?" Casey offered.

"I guess not," Chuck said. "I suppose I'll forward this address to her," Chuck started a new email, typed a few lines and hit send.

"I'll get a hold of Gertrude and tell her to radio Langley for a rendezvous when I go downstairs to pack. I suggest you two get packed as well - no doubt our CIA rides will be here soon," Casey said as he walked out the door.

"I'll step next door and see how Morgan's packing is going," Chuck said and he too left the apartment.

Sarah busied herself with packing her things while Mary Bartowski stood up and looked out of the floor to ceiling windows at Paris. "This is a beautiful view. You know, Stephen and I spent a few weeks here just after we were married."

"Really? I didn't know," Sarah said.

"Even though Stephen hated to be away from his lab, he knew we needed a little time away from the fray to enjoy being married. He could always read me that way," Mary's voice trailed off.

"He sounds like a great husband," Sarah said.

"There is a lot of his father in Chuck," Mary said. "He always saw the best in the ones he loved, just like Chuck. He never lost faith in me." She stared out the window and although the entire landscape of one of the most beautiful cities in the world lay before her, she saw only memories. "That kind of faith can change a woman. I sometimes wonder how things would have worked out if..." Mary turned away from the window and began to head for the door. "I'll be out front."

Sarah said nothing as she continued to fold a few articles of clothing and place them neatly into her suitcase. Then she walked over to where Frost had stood and looked out at Paris. She could see the block where her red test took place from here. The same place where Chuck, her Chuck, saved her from Shaw years later. That was the biggest regret she carried because of her life as a spy, Paris would never be a city of light and love for her.

-O-

Chuck knocked on Morgan's door. He opened it, "Come on in buddy. I'm just finishing up." Morgan took one last look around the room. "So, are things with you and the little missus all sunshine and lollipops again?"

"And rainbows and everything wonderful," Chuck answered. "It's funny, when this was our life, I thought it was what kept us together. The adventure, the exotic missions. But now that we're starting a family, I can't imagine we would ever be able to return to this."

"I know what you mean. Now that I'm about to become a kept man I think I've seen the last of my spy days too," Morgan closed up his suitcase.

"So does that mean it's going to be Saturday afternoons at the grill for us from now on?"

"You know it buddy. And no one grills a steak like me," they both headed for the door. "I guess I will miss the danger a little bit though. You never feel more alive than when you are staring death in the face in some underground bunker."

"I don't know Morgan, holding Emma is a whole other thrill," Chuck said as they both entered the hall.

"Alex and I have been talking about having a little Morgana or Morgan junior someday. Of course, we have to pull off this wedding first - which has proven to be surprisingly difficult," Morgan paused, looked down and shook his head the continued. "Okay buddy, I'm going to walk down a floor and see if my father-in-law-to-be needs any help packing up. Meet you downstairs?" Morgan asked.

"Sure thing. We'll be down in a few." Morgan headed for the elevator as Chuck went back to his room. He opened the door to the apartment to find Sarah sitting at the table looking out the floor to ceiling windows - laptop closed on the table and her bag packed and sitting near the door.

"Hey Sarah. I thought I would check our emergency email account before we leave to see if Ellie sent any updates from home."

Sarah continued to look out the window, then she paused and looked over at Chuck. "We're okay, aren't we?"

"Of course we are," Chuck said returning her gaze and smiling.

"What about Africa? Those men?" Sarah looked down at her hands.

"We both know there are two Sarahs," Chuck sat down and slid his hands over hers on the table. "Sarah Walker - spy, daughter of a con man, angry, ruthless and violent and Sarah Bartowski - loving, kind, loyal and fiercely protective of the ones she loves. And I love both of them."

"I still don't remember everything from those missing five years, but I can't imagine I was ever more in love with you than I am right now." Sarah got up from her chair and walked over behind Chuck. She slid her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. A tear ran down her cheek. Chuck covered her arms with his and tilted his head back slightly.

"I love you Sarah Walker," Chuck said softly.

"Let's get home and see Emma," Sarah whispered back.

Chuck reached over and opened the laptop. He logged into the emergency email account and clicked on the inbox. "Interesting. From 'KissingSanta.' Let's see what the general has to say."

Chuck read the email aloud.

"Chuck, I hope this reaches you before you report in. I don't have time for the details, but Fulcrum is still running the CIA and they are determined to implement a new Intersect. They'll stop at nothing to perfect this technology. I have been ordered to recall both you and Lazlo. Ignore this order. It's not safe. I repeat, do not give me the correct location of either Lazlo or yourself - if they find you, they plan to dissect your brain in attempt to better understand the workings of the Intersect. If you have a safe house, use it. I'll contact you at this email when it is safe."

Sarah stepped back from Chuck and hurried toward the door. "I'll get downstairs and secure Frost you get Casey and Morgan." Sarah grabbed her bag and disappeared into the hall.

Chuck grabbed his things and was out the door just after Sarah. They both hit the stairs, Sarah about a half flight ahead of Chuck. Down one floor, Chuck slammed the staircase door against the wall, ran to Casey's door, and burst into the room. Morgan was sitting on the bed and the bathroom door was closed. Chuck pounded on the door.

"Casey."

"A little peace please Bartowski, I'm still processing the garbage they flooded me with."

"Did you call Gertrude? Did you have her call the general?"

"Relax, I made the call. Gertrude will handle the exchange."

"You have to call her back. It's a setup. And we have to get out of here, now."

Casey opened the door buttoning then zipping his pants. "What are you talking about Bartowski?"

"We got an email from Beckman. She told us not to follow her orders. The CIA is still in the hands members of Fulcrum."

"Get Morgan and get downstairs. I'll be down as soon as I make the call," Casey said.

Chuck and Morgan headed down the four flights, ran through the lobby and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Sarah was nowhere to be found.

Chuck and Morgan ducked into the bank that was right next door to the apartment lobby. The reflective windows allowed a person to see out, but it was impossible to see in. Sarah and Frost stood in the lobby and Sarah was speaking intently to Frost. Chuck and Morgan walked over.

"...so we'll have to see if Casey can arrange something with Verbanski," Sarah finished. She turned to Chuck. "Oh good, you found us. I thought this would provide nice cover until we know what we're going to do."

"Sarah," Chuck suddenly looked drained, "I just want to go home. Can't we just be done with this and return to live a nice quiet life in Chicago?"

"I know Chuck that's what I want too, but if the CIA thinks they can get what they want by dissecting you, we have to go to ground for awhile."

Morgan noticed Casey standing outside the bank and walked over and pushed open the door. "John, over here."

Casey joined the group as they looked through the glass of the bank windows. "I called Gertrude. They didn't make the handoff yet, but she has a team en route. She's pretty sure she can call them off before they rendezvous."

"What about Alex?" Morgan asked.

"She's with Gertrude. They're still in Paris. If we can get to them, she can get us back stateside."

"Where are they?" Sarah asked. As she spoke, a black boxy van stopped out in front of apartment building. Five men in riot gear got out. Two went around to the back of the building while the other three entered through the front door. "Come on," Sarah said. "Our ride's here."

Sarah tossed her bag to Morgan - Chuck and Casey did the same. Morgan labored to carry their bags and his as he followed the three out of the bank.

Chuck and Casey slid in behind the back doors while Sarah went to the driver's side window. "Hello, I mean bon jour," she said in a horrible American speaking French accent, all smile and apologies. "I was wondering if you could tell me..." she saw his hand go to his shoulder, ready to key his microphone. Before he could reach it, she reached inside opened the door and had her left hand firmly clamped onto his neck, fingers digging in on either side of his Adam's apple.

"You don't want to do that. I would hate to crush your larynx. Get out of the van, nice and easy." Chuck poked his head around to see the driver's side of the van and Sarah holding the guard by his throat. He popped him with the tranq gun and the man fell to a heap next to the van. Sarah took his radio and sidearm and got in the van. Casey had the rear doors open and Morgan was trying to get the bags inside. Frost got in the passenger door and Chuck helped Morgan with the bags in before he and Morgan both climbed in. Casey pulled the door closed from the inside and Sarah drove off.

"Okay, we get to Gertrude and we get on a plane out of here," Sarah said as she navigated the streets of Paris.

"Left ahead," Casey said, peering between the front seats. "She is waiting for us at a helipad near the Arc de la Defense."

"Chuck, go in my bag and get the comms, just in case," Sarah said.

"Got it." Chuck dug through Sarah's bag until he found a hard sided case that held six earpieces. He handed one to each and left the remaining earpiece in the case, closed it and stuffed it back in the bag.

An open computer terminal against one of the van's walls caught Morgan's attention and he started clicking through files. "Okay. They have a layout of the Paris apartment, schematics of my place in Burbank, your house in Chicago," he paused but the clicking continued. "Plans for Devon and Ellie's. Hmm. Looks like Ellie's fellowship in Chicago was a CIA operation as well."

Chuck moved over to the terminal as well and looked over Morgan's shoulder. "Look at that. They set her up at the research center to do some of the foundation work for the Intersect 4.0."

"Hey, look at this," Morgan's finger went to the screen. "Looks like Awesome's position is CIA sponsored as well."

"Transplanting genetically engineered organs to increase stamina and strength," Chuck read from the screen. "They were trying to build an army of perfect soldiers."

"Dude, Captain Awesome and Ellie were helping to build Captain America," Morgan's eyes widened.

"I'm certain they had no idea," Chuck said. "But it might mean that the CIA will try a little harder to track down the whereabouts of their disappeared doctor super couple."

"Well, according to this database, they don't have any idea where Ellie and Devon are. But," Morgan clicked, paused and clicked again, "they do suspect they have fled to your safehouse. See?" Morgan pointed to a report on the screen.

"Don't worry about them Chuck. According to what you have there, the CIA doesn't have a lead on them and Devon and Ellie are smart," Sarah said. "They'll be fine until we get there."

"They better be. Our daughter's there."


	22. Chapter 21

"Chuck, find us a Metro line that runs straight to Arche de la Defense. They're probably able to track this van," Sarah said as she steered the black van with black tinted windows through traffic.

"Line 1. Either George V or FDR metro stations should be just over the bridge," Chuck pointed ahead.

As dusk fell on Paris, the streets lit up. Sarah drove up George V Avenue to the Champs Elysee. The four lane tree lined boulevard was filled with visitors and natives strolling arm in arm in the Paris early evening.

"Look at that, a movie theater right on the Champs Elysee. Hey, they have _Avengers __III_. Man, I can't believe I still haven't seen that," Morgan pressed his nose against the glass.

"There's an underground parking lot just ahead on the left," Chuck said looking at the computer.

"Perfect. We'll ditch the van and head out on foot," Sarah drove into the underground parking garage.

"Good thinking Walker. Satellite surveillance shouldn't be able to track us this way," Casey said.

Sarah pulled into a spot, everyone piled out, grabbed a piece of luggage and followed her. "This way. The Metro station will be just a few yards away from the top of these stairs."

They all emerged into the crowd and filtered through it to the Metro entrance. They headed down the stairs, Chuck and Sarah in the lead, followed by Morgan and Frost with Casey in the rear checking for a tail. Chuck stopped at the turnstile. "We don't have any tickets - does anyone have any Euros?"

"Chuck? Do you think hopping the turnstiles is going to be the biggest law we break today?" Sarah asked as she tossed her case and followed it by planting her hands on either side of the turnstile and hopping over.

"I guess you're right." He tossed his bag to Sarah and followed her over.

Walking quickly, but trying not to be too conspicuous, the group followed the maze of tunnels to the platform for line 1, La Defense. They split up into different cars, Sarah and Chuck in one, Casey and Morgan in another and Frost in a third. Chuck wrapped his arm around Sarah as he held onto the cool metal pole in the center of the Metro car. She looked up at him and smiled. "I don't care what our history here has been like, I still love Paris," he said to her. "We should look into getting a little place here once this is all over."

"Remember the first week we spent here as a couple?" her smile softened and she closed her eyes slightly as she raised her lips to his.

She lowered herself again and settled a little more tightly into his embrace. She kept her eyes closed.

"Does this mean you remember too?" Chuck asked.

"I sure do. Most of it came back just as we walked out onto the Champs Elysee just now," she said with the hint of a smile slowly fading from her lips.

"So, does this mean you might want to consider getting a little apartment?"

"I'll start looking just as soon as we get back," Sarah said.

At the next stop, a man with a portable amplifier and and violin stepped through the door at the other end of the car. He played the melody to "More than a Woman" along with the backing chords provided by the iPod hooked to the amplifier. Chuck closed his eyes and rested his cheek against her soft blond hair.

The Metro arrived at La Defense and the five of them regrouped on the platform. "Casey, can you get a firm location for Gertrude?"

"I know exactly where she is. Follow me," Casey led the group up the steps and they were out on the street heading to the large marble and steel monument. "She's set down in a soccer field just west of here."

They walked briskly along Rue Felix Eboue and they could see the field just ahead. A large black helicopter sat in the middle of the field. It didn't go unnoticed - a crowd had gathered around pointing and looking around for someone to explain why this thing landed here.

Pushing their way through the crowd, Casey saw Gertrude waving to him from the lowered steps of the helicopter. The blades of the chopper were beginning to spin up. As they drew closer, Gertrude stepped out to meet them. If Chuck didn't know better, he would have thought Gertrude was about to hug Casey. She extended her hand instead.

"Good to see you again John. I can't tell you how sorry I am that I caused you all this trouble," Gertrude said as they shook hands. Her speech was formal, but her eyes were soft with tears pooling in her lower lids.

"I've got your chip, but I don't think you are going to want to do anything with it until someone can disinfect it. It's been on quite a ride."

"Yea. Why don't you just hang onto it a little while longer. I'll get my techs to clean it up." Gertrude looked to the rest of the group. "We should be going. It looks like you're about to become popular." They could all hear sirens over the noise of the chopper blades.

Once in the helicopter, they all donned headphones. "We'll head out to join up with Alex and the rest of my men. We still have Lazlo on ice. We've kept him sedated - it was the only way to ease his pain."

"He was still crying?" Chuck asked.

"Every time the sedation begins to wear off he grabs his head and starts moaning. We have him strapped down with an IV to keep him comfortable." She turned to Casey, "So, what's the deal with Beckman and the CIA?"

"We don't know much. So far as we can figure, all of this was a sanctioned operation. Kidnapping Alex, stealing the chip, capturing Bartowski here. All of it. Then our buddy Lazlo thought he could get a little restitution from the CIA by taking their Intersect technology to the Black Market," Casey said. The helicopter was away now and the Paris skyline was getting smaller and smaller as they headed north.

"Why would the CIA reinstate the Intersect Project again? It thought after what happened to Morgan and Sarah they had given up on it?" Chuck asked more to himself than anyone else.

"As far as we can tell, Fulcrum has gotten a foothold in the upper levels of the CIA. We believe they are resurrecting this project," Sarah said continuing where Casey left off.

Gertrude let out a low whistle. "Fulcrum. I was still working covert ops for the CIA when Fulcrum was first authorized."

"Authorized?" Chuck asked.

"Sure. They were commissioned by the Secretary of the Defense himself to carry out operations for the CIA off the books. Their last mission was to develop a secret army of super soldiers using Intersect technology. From what I understand, when it was clear to the top brass that the plan was a failure, they ordered most of Fulcrum eliminated. They - or should I say you three - took out most of them, but rumors persisted that the Secretary of Defense had buried some of his key operatives deep in the CIA waiting for just the right occasion to pull them out to continue the Intersect operation."

"That explains a lot," Chuck said. "They must be behind Ellie and Devon's relocation too."

"You know, it's possible Lazlo could point us to his superiors. Help us root out the buried Fulcrum agents and help Beckman clean house," Sarah said.

"Well, let's have a chat with the little rat when we touch down," Casey said.

After close to an hour in the air, the flashing lights of the helipad on the Verbanski cargo ship anchored off the coast of St. Malo came into view. The overcast skies were beginning to give up some light rain. As the wind picked up, the ship began to rise and fall with the swells of the English Channel. The pilot set the helicopter down and powered down the blades as everyone climbed out. "We have Lazlo in a room in the hold. I'll take you there."

"Hey, not that Lazlo isn't every man's dream or anything, but I was wondering if I could maybe see Alex instead?" Morgan asked over the whir of the chopper blades.

"Of course. I'll have Henderson take you there," she motioned to one of the men in the standard issue Verbanski Corp. uniform. The other four, Sarah, Chuck, Casey and Frost followed Gertrude down some metal stairs to a door with two armed guards posted outside. She punched a code in the keypad outside the door and opened it. A hospital bed containing Lazlo sat in the middle of a rather modern looking hospital room. He was strapped down, both arms and legs, and his vital signs registered on the monitor next to the bed. In addition to the standard pulse, respiration and blood pressure, an EKG showed the normal patterns of a person at rest.

"Can we wake him?" Sarah asked.

"We can try. I'll warn you, he wasn't coherent the last time he starting regaining consciousness," Gertrude waved her hand to the corner of the room and a nurse emerged from the shadows. "Wake him up," she paused then added, "slowly."

The nurse inserted a hypodermic into the the line that ran into the back of Lazlo's left hand. His heart rate increased slightly and the waves on the EKG began to shorten and quicken. Lazlo's eyes opened slightly.

Chuck leaned over and looked him right in the eyes. "Lazlo? Can you hear me?"

Lazlo nodded slowly.

"Listen buddy, we're going to try to get this thing out of your head, okay?"

Lazlo began to shake his head as vigorously as the medication would allow.

"It isn't working. It's the reason you're having so much pain when you wake up. It's got to go."

Lazlo said nothing, just kept shaking his head back and forth. The pattern on the EKG began to quicken, then suddenly the reading skyrocketed. Lazlo strained at the restraints, trying to either raise his hand to his head or lower his head to his hands. A low moan grew to a soft cry then the beginnings of a scream. Verbanski nodded to the nurse and she inserted another hypodermic into the IV line. The EKG slowed and Lazlo slipped back into unconsciousness.

"We have to get Ellie. She'd be able to remove the chip," Chuck said before he knew the words were out.

"No." Frost had been so quiet Chuck had almost forgotten she was there. "It's too dangerous. There must be someone else that can do it. I will not bring her into a dangerous situation like this." She had stepped toward Chuck as she spoke.

"I have to agree with your Mom Chuck," Sarah said. "Right now Ellie, Devon and the kids are safe. No matter what happens to us, we have to make sure they stay that way."

"Sarah, don't you think I'm thinking about Clara and Emma here? The CIA have put Ellie and Devon in Chicago to further the Intersect research. They aren't safe as long as the CIA still intends to create these super soldiers." Sarah crossed her arms and looked down. "If we can find out how Fulcrum operates inside the CIA, we can end this program once and for all."

"I don't care," Chuck's mom said, "there has to be a different way. Can't you flash and do the surgery?"

"I've never flashed for brain surgery before. I suppose I could try it, but if something goes wrong we'll have missed our best chance to keep everyone safe."

"If we're going to do this," Sarah said, "then Ellie is going to have to come to us. Devon needs to stay at the safe house with the children. They have to stay safe and hidden no matter what."

"I agree," Chuck said. He had convinced Sarah, but his mother was a different story.

"It's just a little chip. I might be able to get it myself," Frost protested. Everyone was quiet for a minute after this. Chuck could see his mother was weakening and he didn't want to say something that would add fortifications to her disappearing resolve.

"Fine. She comes to us," Frost said.


	23. Chapter 22

"Morgan!" Alex ran to the cabin door and wrapped her arms around Morgan's neck. He hugged her waist tightly. She was trembling. "I'm so glad you're okay. Did you rescue them?"

"Of course. You know me, 'Leave no man behind' Grimes." He loosened his hold on her waist so he could get see her face. "Everyone's okay. We're going home."

"I can't tell you how grateful I am to you and everyone. And my dad? He's okay too, right?"

"Do you really think anyone could stop John Casey? Even your dad couldn't stop your dad for a while there today," Morgan said.

"What?" Alex's brow furrowed.

"It's a long story. They had to get a chip out of him. They had to empty him out to do it. The details get pretty..."

"That's enough Morgan. I don't need the details," she reached up and kissed him. "So where is everybody?"

"We have the bad guy in the hold. I think they're down having a little tete-a-tete with him." Morgan looked around the said, "Is there a galley on this thing? I haven't eaten in since morning. Let's see about getting a bite to eat and then maybe we can do a little catching up."

"You're going to need your strength. The whole damsel in distress and handsome knight routine makes you pretty irresistible right now."

"Really?" Morgan said, straightening up a little.

"Oh yes," Alex kissed him again.

"Maybe a little rack time first - food can wait."

-O-

"Once we get to Dover I have a private plane standing by to get you back to the US," Gertrude said over a cup of coffee in the mess hall. Although this looked like a cargo ship on the outside, inside it was appointed more in the fashion of a luxury liner. The dining area contained five round tables each seating eight. Each table was covered with a cloth table cloth and adorned with fresh flowers and an electric candle. The walls were lined with oak and a slightly lighter hued oak floor ran beneath them. A full time staff of cooks and servers tended to the crew and passengers.

"You're not coming with us?" Casey asked.

"Can't. Have to get this," she held up a capped vial with the XV24 in it, "back to the U.N. eggheads and get paid. We're already a few days overdue."

"We can't thank you enough for helping us out Gertrude," Sarah said, also sipping a cup of coffee.

"Yea. Since the CIA froze our accounts, we've had to work off of Morgan's VISA. I'm pretty sure we're approaching his $2000 limit," Chuck said.

"No problem. I'll see that you get the friends and family discount when I send you the bill," Gertrude said.

Chucks forehead scrunched and he was stuck somewhere between a question and a laugh, "That's funny... umm or... You're not kidding, are you?"

Gertrude just smiled. As Chuck thought about the plane they remodeled, the Humvee they destroyed and the thousands of miles of air travel they racked up, his smiled faded to a calculatory look of concern. This was going to be expensive.

Morgan and Alex walked into the galley and over to the table with the rest. Morgan was wearing a robe he found in the room, his bare feet and bare legs indicating a state of undress the rest tried hard not to visualize. Alex was dressed in the shirt Morgan was wearing just an hour ago and a pair of sweatpants.

"Hello gang, when does the dinner bell ring around here?" Morgan said as he sat down.

Alex broke away from Morgan and ran over to Casey. "Dad. I'm so glad you're okay." She hugged him around the neck. "I can't wait to get back home." Casey put one arm around her. The hug brought a soft smile to Alex's face.

Morgan waved down one of the serving staff and ordered for himself and Alex.

"So, where do you want the plane to take you?" Gertrude asked, not quite sure to whom she should address this question.

"I've been thinking," it was Frost that answered, "Chicago might be a little too big and a little too obvious. Is there someplace a little smaller and closer to the safe house?"

Sarah and Chuck looked at each other, then Chuck turned to Gertrude, "Could you get us to Milwaukee? Mitchell International Airport?"

"We can get you anywhere you want."

"Great. Let me..." Chuck took out his phone, tapped a few buttons, "I'm going to put an ad in the classified section of the local paper in..." he stopped before revealing the city where they kept their safehouse. He certainly trusted everyone at this table, but even in Chuck's limited spy experience he had learned the sacred nature of safehouses. "There. She should see this tomorrow and come alone to a little place I know of just outside Milwaukee at two o'clock in the afternoon."

As Morgan's order arrived, everyone else decided they were hungry as well and they all ordered plates of food. The dinner conversation was surprisingly normal for a group of people planning to overthrow the CIA.

"So Alex, did you get a dress yet?" Gertrude asked.

"Well, we were going to try to find something after lunch...four days ago. Then, well let's just say we didn't make it to the bridal shop yet."

"Well, I would love to go with you girls when we get back," Gertrude said. "It's been a long time since I've gone shopping." Sarah wasn't the only one surprised at this. Chuck's raised eyebrows and Morgan's headsnap mirrored Sarah's curious amusement.

"Hmm, are we going to be looking for two dresses right away?" Sarah smiled at Gertrude.

"Who? Me? Not that anyone has asked, but I'm not sure I'm the marrying type."

"Sounds like you just opened the door for a question," Chuck said and looked at Casey.

Absorbed in thought, Casey finally realized the topic had turned to himself. He looked up, leveled a menacing glare at Chuck, grunted and returned to his plate.

"My 'gruntish' is a little rusty," Morgan said, "but I don't think that was a proposal." Casey looked at him and Morgan quickly lowered his eyes and continued to eat.

-O-

The plane that awaited them in Dover was a little smaller than the 707 they took to Nairobi, but it would still be very comfortable.

"Okay team, this is the Verbanski Corp.'s Sukhoi Superjet 100. I picked it up used. Got a nice deal on it. It's sort of the 'B' team of the fleet, but I'm down a jet right now," Gertrude said.

"This will be adequate," Casey said. "Should we expect you in a day or two?" he asked Gertrude.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. The U.N. team is waiting in New York for me. I'll drop off this and meet you in Milwaukee." She looked over to the others and then back to Casey. She stood up on her toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. With that, she turned and headed back to the Range Rover that took them from the port to the airport.

"You little Romeo," Chuck said as Casey turned and headed up the stairs of the Sukhoi 100.

Alex and Morgan sat in the rear of the plane, Casey and Frost sat on opposite sides of the aisle near the front leaving plenty of space for Sarah and Chuck to sit privately over the wing of the plane.

"You know statistically," Chuck began as he and Sarah settled into their seat, "the seats over the wing provide the highest percentage of survival in the event of a crash."

"That's oddly comforting, I guess," Sarah said. "Hey, could you reach me that blanket," she pointed up to an open bin above the row opposite them.

"Sure. Anything else?" he helped arrange the blanket over her legs and sat back down in his seat.

"Nope. I have everything I need right here," she grabbed his right arm with both of hers and put her head against his shoulder. "Well, almost everything."

"We'll see Emma again in a few days," Chuck said. "Would you like to look at pictures again?"

"I'm not sure I can right now - or that I need to. I see her everytime I close my eyes."

The engine noise increased and Chuck could feel the wheels rumbling down the runway.

"Do you remember that subdivision we infiltrated looking for Fulcrum?" Sarah asked.

"The place that made Peyton Place look like Disneyland?"

Sarah laughed, "Yeah I guess it did, but of all the memories I lost, I never lost that one. I remember making you breakfast like it was yesterday."

"You really had me concerned. I guess at that time I couldn't really peg you as Susie Homemaker."

"And now?" Sarah asked playfully.

"Absolutely." She grabbed his arm a little tighter.

"And you don't think you'll get bored of me if all I am is a wife and mother?"

"The better question is won't you get bored living the suburbs for the rest of your life?"

"I can't imagine anything I would love more," Sarah smiled, "and you avoided my question."

"I can't imagine anything I would love more than sitting with you on the front porch swing when we're sixty watching the grandchildren play in the front yard."

"It's a date."

-O-

"Dude, you rented an ambulance? We should be able to get back to Chicago in that baby in no time," Morgan said as he pressed his face against the glass window of the Sukhoi Superjet 100 as it rolled to a stop at the Signature hanger at Mitchell International Airport.

Chuck walked back to the row ahead of Alex and Morgan and kneeled in the seat nearest the window. "That's for us Morgan. We have to transport Lazlo in something," Chuck said.

"I almost forgot he was aboard," Morgan said. "Okay, then tell me we get the Mustang?" Morgan spotted a late model red GT.

"The sports car is for Sarah. The F150 is for Casey and my mom," Chuck said in anticipation of Morgan's next statement.

"Noooo, dude. Say it isn't true. Not the sedan?" Morgan whined.

"Look buddy, the Ford Taurus is very roomy. You'll have a very comfortable trip down to Chicago in that."

"Yea, but Chuck, a sedan? What are we, Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham?" Morgan looked to Chuck for help.

"I was thinking more of a Joanie and Chachi, but if you prefer Mr. C..." Chuck just let that last image hang and he turned to grab his bag and head for the door of the plane.

Alex grabbed Morgan's hand, "Come on Chachi, let's get our things and get on the road."

"Hey? That's how nicknames start. This better not be like my freshman year when everyone called me 'Peaches'."

"'Peaches'?" Alex turned and looked back at him head tilted.

"Do you think I was born," he stroked his beard, "with this baby this thick and full? A man has to start somewhere."

They had made their way to the door. Casey turned the handle and gave the it a shove. "Alright 'Peaches,' get your butt down the steps," Casey smirked.

"Fine, fine. But can we at least go back to Chachi?"

They all stood on the tarmac in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The bright Spring sunshine and the light cool breeze made sunglasses and light coats necessary for everyone.

After saying their goodbyes to Morgan and Alex, Chuck handed addresses to Casey and the Verbanski crew that would be moving Lazlo from the plane to the ambulance to transport him to a hotel located about an hour south of Milwaukee. They were all going to take different routes to get there in case anyone tracked them this far. Certainly if the CIA wanted to, they could be looking at them right now. Chuck had to trust that Beckman could run a little interference for them on her end.

Chuck's classified ad to Ellie had her meeting them at the world famous Brat Stop in Kenosha, Wisconsin. As long as they had to find a place to meet, he may as well get a chance to sample some of the world's best homemade sausage. It was also conveniently located almost halfway between the airport and the safehouse they kept in Lake Geneva. Not to mention a short drive from St. Catherine's Hospital - a place where both Devon and Ellie had privileges. They would have to save the hospital as a last resort. If Ellie checked in there, or anywhere for that matter, it would be a matter of minutes before they were all apprehended.

As they exited the Interstate, Chuck pointed to the Brat Stop's sign: six large yellow squares, one for each letter in the word "Cheese", with a green sign below it that read simply "Brat Stop."

"You're in for such a treat," Chuck said as Sarah pulled the Mustang into the parking lot of the Brat Stop. "You haven't lived until you have had a brat here."

"You forget, I am a veteran of the sausage wars myself. They better be good if they're going to up against the gourmet cuisine I proudly served at the Wienerlicious."

"Nothing against your wienerwork, but I think you will find that these sausages will blow yours away."

"Is it me, or is it getting warm in here?" Sarah laughed as she pulled her shirt away from her chest in an attempt to fan herself.

They stepped out of the car and both surveyed the scene. This was a pretty popular stop on the I-94 corridor between Milwaukee and Chicago. Plenty of semis and cargo vans to conceal a CIA surveillance team but also plenty of people to provide some cover and make it harder for them to swoop down without creating a scene.

The place wasn't anything like Sarah pictured it. Instead of a little photomat shack pushing brats out of a window, they walked up to a rather new looking banquet hall sized building. It would be about a half an hour until Ellie arrived, so Chuck and Sarah went up to the counter. "Oh hey look Sarah, if we got here in time for breakfast you could give 'Egg Von Brat' a try."

"I think I'll survive the disappointment," then to the attendant, "I'll just try one of your traditional brats please."

"And I'll take a Jalapeno Cheddarwurst and two regular sodas." Chuck paid, grabbed the tray and they took a seat in one of the booths. They sat so they could both keep an eye on the front door.

Chuck looked around the room in amazement, "You know, STYX played here once."

"Really?" Sarah said, doing her best to sound impressed.

"I think I'm going to get a t-shirt before we leave."

"No. No you're not," Sarah smiled.

Chuck sunk his teeth deep into the Cheddarwurst, closing his eyes as he chewed. "Oh Sarah, you have got to try this," he stretched out his arm across the table.

"No thanks, I'll be fine with the brat." She took a bite. "Okay," she paused for a second, "you might be on to something here. This is good." Her second bite came with a little more enthusiasm.

"You should learn to never doubt me when it comes to speciality food," Chuck said proudly.

They both saw Ellie enter at the same time. She scanned the crowd for Chuck and their eyes finally met. She smiled, looked around one last time, then came over and slid in next to Sarah.

"I got your message in the classifieds. I'm glad you guys are alright. Did you get Alex back?"

"Yes. Turns out they didn't want her, but something Casey gave her. A microchip," Chuck said.

"But, if everyone's okay, why are Devon and I still staying in the safehouse with the children?" Ellie asked.

"Well, it turns out," Sarah spoke now, "that the microchip has a very specialized use."

Ellie waited. Sarah took a drink from her soda. "Ellie? How far have you gotten with your attempts to integrate computer processors in human brains?"

"How did you know I was working on that?"

"Lucky guess," Chuck offered. "Turns out this chip is designed to connect with the human brain in such a way that the Intersect becomes part of every thought and action, but then really kicks in during times of stress or complex mental computations."

"I knew it!" Ellie said. Then lowering her voice and leaning in toward Chuck, "I was this close," she held her index finger and thumb an inch apart, "to proposing live trials when my assistant resigned." Ellie looked off to her right then focused back in on Chuck, "I knew the timing of her 'resignation' was a little too coincidental. The last thing we had to figure out was how to create some kind of heatsink for the chip."

"That's where this new chip may come in," Chuck said. "Not only does it run more quickly than the previous generation, it actually seems to absorb body heat and use it to power the processor."

"Brilliant. That would solve everything." Ellie picked up Chuck's soda and took a drink.

"Ellie," Sarah said, "who besides your assistant knows about this work?"

"Let's see. The clinic knows the general area I'm working in, but as yet no one has asked to see any specifics. No, just myself and my former assistant, Gretta."

"Gretta?" Chuck and Sarah said at the same time. Ellie's eyes grew wide as she leaned quickly back.

"Yes. Why?"

Chuck put down his brat and grabbed Ellie's hand, "Ellie, there's something we're going to need you to do."


	24. Chapter 23

_Been awhile between updates - sorry. Work is crazy right now. Please consider reviewing. I appreciate the feedback. Thanks._

"It's okay Chuck, the administrator here owes me a favor. Devon filled in for their staff cardiologist when he took a month for his honeymoon. Just make sure the guys in the ambulance are dressed like EMTs. They can't come dressed like commandos," Ellie said as she leaned into the window of the Mustang where Chuck and Sarah sat outside of the ER at St. Catherine's Hospital.

"As long as you are sure sis. If the CIA gets a fix on us, this place'll be crawling with special forces in minutes," Chuck said.

"Try to avoid looking into any security cameras when we go in," Sarah said as she got out of the car, checking the lot for surveillance. She was still wearing the sunglasses, black windbreaker and tight black pants she had on when they left the plane a few hours ago. Ellie had grabbed a long white coat from her rental car. It was an old one, so was still embroidered with her maiden name. Chuck wore the same black windbreaker and glasses as Sarah, but with black dress pants and his black and white Chuck Taylors. "We're going around back to see if we can slip in a little less conspicuously," Sarah said.

The ambulance pulled in sirens running and Casey and Frost, dressed as EMTs, jumped out of the back and pulled the gurney that held the still unconscious Lazlo. The wheels of the gurney flipped down as the pulled and they wheeled him in through the ER doors, Ellie right behind. Casey and Frost wore their hats down low on the heads and kept their faces down as the pushed Lazlo into the ER.

A nurse at the desk looked up from her clipboard and paper and pointed down the hall. "Room 3," she said and returned to her work.

Chuck and Sarah went around the back to the shipping and receiving area. There, a man was unloading a truck full of some fresh linens, scrubs and caps. Sometimes it was better to be lucky than good, Sarah thought. Chuck and Sarah ran to the front of the truck and crouched down. Chuck nodded to Sarah and she crouched along the passenger's side of the truck. As the driver pushed a hand truck into the receiving area, Sarah jumped into the back of the truck and tossed a pair of scrubs, two masks and two caps to Chuck who had made his way along the driver's side. Casey broke in over the comm, "We have him in the ER, room 3. We'll head back outside to make sure you three get some alone time."

"Roger that Casey," Sarah answered as she and Chuck took off their sunglasses, slipped the scrubs over their clothes, put on the caps and tied the masks around their necks, letting them hang below their chins. They walked into the receiving area then two hallways and two doors later, they were in ER room 3 with Ellie. Lazlo's arms, legs and head were already strapped securely to the procedure chair. The head rest on the chair had been replaced by a brace that secured tightly around the top of Lazlo's head and ran down into the chair, but still allowed Ellie access to the back of his head, where the chip was implanted.

"Okay Chuck, you and Sarah are going to have to assist," Ellie said.

"Sure. What do you need me to do?" Chuck asked.

"I need one of you to push this through his IV. It will continue his sedation. He'll be awake, but just barely."

"He's going to be awake when you cut into his head?" Chuck's eyes widened.

"He has to be. We will have to be sure that we don't do any permanent damage when we extract the chip. Don't worry, I'll numb the area of the incision and he'll be fine. There's no nerves in the brain - he won't feel a thing."

Chuck pushed the syringe into the IV line.

"Sarah, hand me that electric razor on the tray. I'm going to have to give him a bit of a trim here.

Ellie used the razor to shave the hair from the back of Lazlo's head, just above his hairline. "My goodness, they certainly did a terrible job of stitching him up when they put this chip in."

Ellie brushed away what hair remained then pointed to the tray again, "I'll need that alcohol and those pads. She proceeded to wipe down the area of the old incision. "Okay, get me new gloves." She stripped off her old gloves and regloved with gloves Chuck provided her. "Sarah, the syringe please."

Ellie stuck the needle into Lazlo's head in six places, numbing the scalp where she intended to make the incision. Lazlo began to open his eyes.

"Lazlo, I'm Doctor..." Ellie paused, "I'm your doctor. I'm going to get this chip out of you."

Lazlo's hands clenched and released as he tried to shake his head. The restraint made this impossible.

"It'll all be over before you know it and you'll feel much better," Ellie tried to sound soothing.

She made the incision and the scalp opened to reveal a newly healed bone graft where the last bone plug was replaced.

"Drill," Ellie held out her hand and Sarah placed the drill into it. Ellie sucked in a good deal of air, placed the bit against the exposed skull and began to drill. After she completed three holes she handed the drill back to Sarah. "Saw," she said. Using the bone saw to connect the holes, Ellie extracted a small plug of skull. "Tray." She placed the bone in the tray and Sarah replaced the tray on the small table next to her.

"Chuck," Ellie said astonished, "can you smell that?" A faint odor of burning flesh mingled with the smell of freshly sawn bone. "This chip is so hot it is actually burning some of this man's brain. I mean, not much, but still..."

"So, if there are no nerves in the brain, why is he in so much pain?" Chuck asked.

"This chip was heating up the membrane around the brain. The pain must have been excruciating. Forceps, the small ones." Sarah placed them into Ellie's outstretched hand.

Ellie moved an instrument that looked something like a microscope into place over the hole in Lazlo's head.

"There are quite a few nerves tied into this chip. I hope I can extract it without interrupting any of his vital processes." She looked for a moment longer then plunged the small forceps into the hole. "Lazlo? Try to move your fingers." Ellie waited a moment, "Are they moving Chuck?"

"Yes."

"Now your feet please," Ellie said.

"He's moving them."

"Okay, it looks like I've freed it. Tray Sarah."

Ellie placed the white hot chip, the size of a grain of rice, into the tray. "Okay Chuck, pick up the syringe with the red label on it and push 2 cc's into his IV."

Chuck did as instructed. Lazlo became much more lucid.

"I can," he started. "I mean, the pain..." a smile began to spread on his face. He looked directly at Chuck. "How do you live with that thing in you?" he asked.

"Remember, I'm the old model. No hardware, just software up here," Chuck pointed to his head and offered a toothy smile.

"But still, the flashes. How do you do it?"

"Lazlo," Ellie interrupted, "we have to make sure everything is back in working order, okay?"

"Sure, anything you want doc. I can't tell you what a relief this is."

Ellie walked Lazlo through a series of tests to make sure his nervous system was functioning without the chip in his head. When she was satisfied, she asked Sarah to bring the tray with the skull plug over to her. As she was stitching up the incision, the heart monitor showed Lazlo's pulse increasing steadily.

"Are you in any pain?" Ellie asked.

"Nope. None at all, but my heart is starting to race and I'm getting pretty hot here," Lazlo said as his face turned noticeably more and more red.

"I was afraid of this," Ellie said. She looked concerned.

"What?" Chuck asked before Lazlo could.

"Part of this chip's design allows it to control the hypothalamus - the part of your brain that handles things like breathing and pulse. It sends signals to this part of the brain coordinate the pulse and respiration with the maneuvers it performs."

"Kind of like a gas pedal?" Chuck asked.

"Exactly. I think this man's pedal is stuck."

"What can we do to help him?" Chuck asked.

"I'm not sure," Ellie said. "I'll be back. I'll see if an anti seizure dose will help."

"Chuck," Sarah walked up to him, "we have to question him now. In case..."

"But he's..." he knew she was right. He walked up close to Lazlo's face. "Lazlo, listen. We need to know who in the CIA has authorized the revival of the Intersect project." Lazlo's face was redder now and he was beginning to sweat profusely. "Lazlo? Can you hear me."

"Sure Chucky," Lazlo's voice was shaking. "Hear you just fine." He was gripping the arms of the procedure chair with both hands. "Just burning up a little here my man."

"Ellie's going to help you with that, but we need you to help us."

"Sure, you want to know," his speech was slowing as the sweat was soaking his gown and his fingers blanched from the pressure of his grip on the chair. "If I tell you," he was beginning to breath so hard it was affecting his ability to speak. "If I tell you," his entire body was gripped by a tremor now.

Ellie rushed into the room. "I'm going to push 4 mg of Lorazepam. That should help lessen the severity of this reaction." She inserted the needle and emptied the syringe. "But I don't know how we fix this. It seems his hypothalamus can no longer regulate the body by itself."

"So what does that mean?" Chuck asked.

"I'm afraid this man's going to die," Ellie said gravely.

"Lazlo," Sarah stepped in front of Chuck and looked directly into Lazlo's eyes. "Lazlo, we need to know the name of the person that authorized this. That did this to you."

"Do you promise to kill her?" Lazlo said weakly. "If I tell you, you have to promise to kill her. She has to pay for doing this to me."

"Of course. We can't let her do this to anyone else. You have my word," Sarah said. Lazlo's eyes began to roll back up into his head as his pulse slowed to a crawl. She slapped him. Nothing. She looked to Ellie. "I need him conscious. What can you do?"

"I don't know," Ellie said. Lazlo flatlined. "I'm afraid it might be too late."

"It can't be. Is that epinephrine?" Sarah pointed at a long large gauge needle.

"Yes, but..." before Ellie could finish Sarah grabbed the syringe. Ellie started to move to stop Sarah, but the look Sarah gave Ellie froze her. Sarah plunged it through Lazlo's breastbone and pushed the plunger down until it was empty.

The monitor began to display a pulse and Lazlo's eyes slowly opened. His pulse came back slowly at first, but as the seconds passed the rate increased. And continued to increase. Lazlo was turning red again.

"Lazlo," Sarah slapped him to try to direct his attention to her words, "who did this to you?"

"The director. J.B. She's the one who..." he began to trail off as his pulse rose.

"J.B.?" Sarah said. "Who's J.B.?"

Lazlo looked weakly at Sarah with a faint smile. "I always just called her J.B." He was slurring his words now. "Pretty lady... Kill her... for me... please." Lazlo flatlined for the last time.

Casey's voice came over the comm, "I hope you kids are about done in there, because it is about to get busy."

"Talk to me Casey," Sarah said.

"Two teams of three. One in the ER entrance another to the front doors. Both armed and in body armor."

"Ellie, is there another way out of here beside the front door or ER entrance?" Chuck said.

"I have an idea. Follow me." Ellie led them out of ER Room 3 and turned back to the loading dock where Sarah and Chuck came in minutes ago. Ellie continued past the loading dock doors but Chuck and Sarah each peered through the one of the two window in the double doors. Three men in black vests and armed with automatic weapons were heading right for the doors from outside. As they saw Chuck and Sarah, they broke into double time.

"Three more at the loading dock Casey," Sarah said into her watch.

Chuck and Sarah quickly caught up to Ellie, who was now heading for the hospital cafeteria. "We are going to have to get out of here fast," Sarah said. "They're right behind us."

Ellie started off in a run as well and they pushed through the double doors that lead to the hospital cafeteria dining area. "That way," Ellie pointed to the kitchen. All three of them headed through a single swinging door into the cafeteria kitchen. Running past the prep table, some fryers and the grill area, Ellie led them back to the kitchen receiving area. She pointed straight ahead at a single red steel door, "This door leads outside."

"Casey," Sarah spoke into her watch again, "we're coming out at the back of the hospital. Red steel door."

"On it."

Chuck, Sarah and Ellie could hear the cooks shouting at the group following them as they pushed through the door at the back of the kitchen. The driveway wrapped around the building to their right. It looked like it would circle back around to the loading docks. They got about forty feet in that direction when the kitchen door opened again. Shots came from the doorway.

"You two keep going. I'm going to buy us a little time," Sarah said.

Sarah pushed herself up against the wall of the hospital, grabbed a pistol from her back beltline and shot at two of the agents, hitting each square in the chest. They both fell backwards, clutching their chests and gasping for air. Instinctively, she crouched down after her first two shots and the shot from the last agent struck the building right where her head had been. One shot from a crouch and the last agent was down. Their bullet proof vests would save their lives, but put them down long enough for everyone to make it into the ambulance safely. Casey opened the ambulance door while Frost skidded to a stop part way down the narrow road behind the hospital.

Sarah slammed the door shut behind her and Frost pushed the gas pedal to the floor. She jumped a low curb and ran over the grass to the residential road behind the hospital.


	25. Chapter 24

On the fourteenth floor of the United Nations General Assembly Building in New York City, four men and one woman in white lab coats sat around a large round wood grained table.

"We should be just about ready to go. With the heatsink problem conquered, we should be ready to proceed with human testing," a man with dark brown hair with some silver at this temples spoke to the rest.

"When is the courier scheduled to drop the chip off?" one of the other scientists, a woman with long blond hair and rather prominent cheekbones, asked.

"I believe they'll be here any minute now. Security called about five minutes ago. They're on their way."

"So doctor," one of the younger men spoke now. Red hair, thin with fine features and a trace of acne. He couldn't be much more than thirty years old. He was speaking to the blond. "How long have you been working in the area of brain enhancement research?"

"I have been working in a clinic outside of Chicago for some years now. The doctor I worked with there was on the verge of some very exciting breakthroughs. I am eager to take what I learn here back to her."

"Was that Dr. Woodcomb?"

"Yes."

"I knew Ellie when she was just out of residency in Burbank. How is she?"

"She's fine. Husband and one child, nice place in the suburbs," the blond doctor answered.

"Ah, here is the courier now," the older doctor got up out of his chair and headed to the glass door which led to the hall. A pair of men in black Verbanski Corp. uniforms flanked Gertrude Verbanski.

"Dr. Listrom. I'm Gertrude Verbanski. I believe I have a package for you?" Gertrude said.

"We have been eagerly awaiting this," he said and shook her hand.

"Well, if I can get a retinal scan, we can drop this with you and be on our way."

"Certainly," the doctor stooped slightly and placed his eye against the cup of the handheld retinal scanner operated by one of Gertrude's associates. He looked at the screen and nodded.

"Thank you Dr. Listrom. Here's the package. If your group ever needs anything else, I hope you will keep Verbanski Corp. in mind."

"Certainly," the doctor shook Gertrude's hand and she walked back down the hall to the elevators.

Dr. Listrom took the package back to the table and the other doctors got up to gather around him. They all wanted to see the chip first hand. All except the blond. She remained at her seat.

Dr. Listrom removed the cover and picked up a small vial from its place in the foam packing inside the box. "Gentlemen and ladies, here it is."

Four silenced shots left all four doctors with one neat red hole each in their heads. The shots came so quickly that by the time the last doctor met with the bullet that killed him, the first doctor had just hit the floor.

The tall blond calmly walked over to the other side of the table, took the small vial out of Dr. Listrom's hand, placed it back in the box, replaced the cover, set her gun on the table and left the room.

-O-

"So, who is this J.B.?" Frost asked. The ambulance sped north on Interstate 94, siren and lights clearing away the traffic before them.

"I don't know. Lazlo said she was a director in the CIA, but that's all we got from him," Chuck said.

Casey grunted. "If I'm also going to become the brains of this organization, I can't see that I'll need any of you anymore."

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked.

"CIA director - initials J.B. That really doesn't ring a bell?"

"Should it?" Chuck asked.

"I would think it would. You went and saved her life. With a pocket protector no less."

"Director Bentley?" Chuck looked to Sarah.

"Jane Bentley. Those close to her call her J.B.," Casey said.

"But, I don't understand," Ellie entered the conversation. "Why would a CIA director be working against her own agents?"

"Years ago when your father was trying to perfect the Intersect, he was working for a division of the CIA called Fulcrum. They're the ones that greenlighted the Winterbottom project and they're the ones that worked to cover it up. I've heard rumblings that Fulcrum never completely disappeared, just stayed under the radar waiting for an opening."

"But they're still part of the CIA right? Aren't we all on the same side?" Ellie asked.

"You'll find there are many sides in an organization like the CIA. Some groups like the Ring were a dark and evil organization determined to take over the world. Fulcrum is different. Their only concern is with the Intersect," Frost drove the ambulance up the exit ramp and headed to the airstrip where the Verbanski jet waited for them. Apparently, none of the agents at the hospital were able to get to vehicles in time to mount much of a pursuit.

"So did Fulcrum have anything to do with freeing Daniel Shaw and his attempt to upgrade the Intersect?" Sarah asked.

"I wouldn't put it past them," Casey said. "Everyone in the CIA is out for themselves. No honor amongst spies."

"Bentley was the one that got me back into Dad's research when she returned the laptop to me," Ellie remembered.

"And I'll bet she got you the research job in Chicago," Sarah said.

"Now that we know Bentley is behind this, maybe General Beckman can help put an end to all of it," Chuck said.

The Verbanski jet was fueled and waiting on the tarmac for them as they drove into the Signature facility. They left the ambulance, boarded the plane and all gathered around the computer terminal near the front of the cabin as the jet taxied and took off.

"Yes Bartowski?" General Beckman's face appeared on the screen. She was seated behind her desk in her uniform. Her hair pulled up tightly in a bun behind her head.

"General, we think we've found out who within the CIA is behind all of this."

"And..."

"Lazlo said his implant was done under the orders of a CIA director everyone just called J.B." Chuck said.

"Bentley." Beckman paused for a moment her eyes staring off to the right of the screen. "I suppose I should have guessed that. Now everything's beginning to make sense."

"What do you mean?" Chuck asked.

"Is Lazlo willing to testify to the things he endured under the command of Director Bentley?"

"He's dead General," Sarah answered.

"That is unfortunate. Officially, the Intersect project is off limits. Anyone involved with the Intersect would be subject to court martial. Evidently, that hasn't stopped Bentley and Fulcrum from continuing their efforts. Anyway, I'm afraid there isn't much I can do without some proof of her involvement in this project."

"You knew Bentley was Fulcrum?" Sarah asked.

"I didn't know for sure, but now it all makes sense."

"So what do we do now? We can't just keep running, hiding our family from the CIA and hoping she never catches up with us," Chuck said.

"There is something," the General paused. "Bentley is running an operation out of Burbank for the next few months. She is supposed to be evaluating new recruits, but obviously there's more to it than that. She has staffed her assignment with many of the same agents she worked with a few years ago when she put the Intersect into her 'Gretas'."

"I had a Greta working for me at the institute while I was engaged in brain implant research General," Ellie said. "She disappeared just before we were about to begin live trials."

"That makes sense. She would need a medical expert if she plans to implant the XV24 into another subject." The General thought for a moment. "Where is the XV24 now?"

"Gertrude, I mean Verbanski Corporation is delivering it to her employers at the U.N. as we speak," Casey said.

"Where exactly is that meet set?" the General asked, eyebrows knit together.

"The U.N. General Assembly Building in New York. Why?" Casey asked.

"I just received word minutes ago that a team of U.N. scientists have been assassinated. I believe they are the same scientists who were to take delivery of the chip."

"That means Bentley has the chip and Ellie's research. There's nothing stopping her from putting the two together to make an entire army of super agents," Chuck said.

"I do have some potentially good new for you," the General said. "They're using the old Castle underneath the Buy More as a base."

"How can they do that? We own the Buy More and everything beneath it," Chuck said.

"It seems Mr. Grimes has rented the space out to the Agency," Beckman said.

"Morgan did say he was going to be investigating other cash flow opportunities for the Buy More. This must be what he was talking about," Chuck said.

"Good thing for us the little guy has some American entrepreneurial spirit," Casey said. "He's just given us the edge we need to stop Director Bentley once and for all."

"You need to know I'm not in a position to authorize any operation against an active CIA director. If you go up against her, you will be going up against the American Government and the CIA," Beckman said. "But, if you uncover proof that she's experimenting on American citizens for the purpose of resurrecting the Intersect program, I can see that she is put in a very dark hole for a very long time."

"We'll do what we can General. Thanks." The General terminated the connection just before Chuck could get the last word out. Chuck turned to Sarah, "She always does that."

"We should get Ellie back to the safe house before we head back to Burbank," Mary Bartowski said.

"No way. Greta was my assistant. I'm responsible for whatever she ends up doing to these recruits. I want to help stop her," Ellie said.

"Sis, you can't blame yourself for whatever this Greta is going to do. You didn't know," Chuck said. "Besides, we need you to keep Clara and Emma safe."

"If it wasn't for me, Bentley wouldn't have any chance of using the XV24. And what if she has already started by the time we get there? Who's going to help those poor people?"

"She has a point Chuck," Sarah stepped in. She didn't often get involved in Bartowski family arguments. She instead preferred to try to talk to Chuck alone afterward. "What if we need a medical expert? Your sister knows more about implanting this device than anyone on Earth."

"She has a point Bartowski. None of us can do any cutting, if it comes down to that," Casey said.

"Fine, she can come, but she stays in the van and out of the way," Chuck said. "We should get Morgan. He rented the space out to the CIA. He may be able to help get us in."

"You call ahead to Grimes and have him meet us at the airport. I'll tell the pilot." Casey walked over to the cockpit.

"I'm going to call Devon and let him know that I'm alright," Ellie said and walked to the back of the plane. Mary Bartowski followed and sat in a row part of the way back.

"It's going to be okay Chuck, I promise. I'll see that nothing happens to Ellie and we'll put a stop to Bentley once and for all," Sarah and Chuck sat alone. She put her hand on his arm as he turned to look out the window.

"I just can't believe she has been behind everything - that she's been pulling the strings for Fulcrum the entire time." Chuck's eyebrows knit together as a new thought struck him. "This means she's responsible for the deaths of Brice and Graham and everything."

"It seems that way. All just to create the ultimate spy."

"And all this time, I had the ultimate spy right here," Chuck smiled, turned and kissed Sarah.


	26. Chapter 25

_My sincere apologies to anyone who was following the story on the delay in getting this chapter out. Life, work, play have been crazy the last few weeks and I haven't had anytime to read or write. I think you'll enjoy the chapter despite the wait. As a quick refresher - After travelling to Kenya and Paris to recover a chip that allows anyone to have Intersect like powers, the group is back in Burbank to get the chip from the mastermind behind all of this - Director Bentley. She is holed up in Castle with Grettas and a chip._

_As always, thanks for reading. I would really appreciate any suggestions/comments you could offer._

The moon rose to light the familiar courtyard where Sarah and Chuck used to live. Inside Casey's apartment Sarah, Casey, Mary, Ellie and Chuck were crafting plans to break into their former stronghold.

"Guys, I really had no idea Bentley had turned all Lex Luthor. If I knew I never would have agreed to rent her Castle," Morgan pleaded his case in Casey's apartment as the rest studied the plans to Castle. Casey's apartment had changed little from the last time Chuck and Sarah were here. The furniture was neatly arranged as though someone used a t-square to ensure each piece was exactly perpendicular to each other and parallel with the walls. A photograph of President Reagan hung in a hallowed place on the wall, but joining it now was a photo of Casey and his daughter. A photo of Morgan and Alex sat on the end table next to John's chair.

Chuck turned to Morgan, "Don't worry about it buddy. It's actually a good thing. If she was somewhere else, who knows what we would be facing. We have access codes, schematics..."

"And a decoy," Casey turned to look at Morgan.

"A decoy? What exactly do you have in mind John?" Morgan asked hesitantly.

"As a concerned landlord, perhaps you could go in and... well... be yourself," Casey said.

"I can do that. Yea. Be myself," Morgan's smile faded to pinched eyebrows. "What exactly do you mean, '...be myself'?"

Casey began to speak when Chuck interrupted, "You know buddy, you like to be helpful, you ask a lot of questions. You like to work your way into people's hearts, minds, couches. We're just looking for you to do the same thing here. Just stop down to see how things are going and invite yourself in for a bit."

"Ah..." Morgan exhaled.

"If we go in here," Sarah pointed to the access point located in the old frozen yogurt shop, "we should be able to slip in relatively undetected. I don't think this point of access has been used in years."

"Are we sure it's still even there?" Chuck asked.

"It's easy enough to find out," Casey said. "The current business owners won't really be able to turn away the health inspector and his crew. We should be able to get into the back room easily."

"If we can get in that way we can get into this old hallway. That should give us a way to move undetected through most of Castle until we see exactly how Bentley has everything laid out." Sarah traced a route with her finger as she spoke.

"The rest of it we will have to put together as we go, but basically we get the chip, get evidence that Bentley is involved in prohibited research and get out. Piece of cake."

Casey grunted and rolled his eyes.

"While you four are infiltrating Castle, I would like to take Ellie and get a few pieces of research I think your father had stashed away. It might help her if she has to de-program any of the new Intersect candidates.

"Sounds like a plan. Alright, let's get some sleep and we'll hit them in the morning," Chuck said. Ellie and Mary elected to sleep in Casey's apartment while Sarah and Chuck were going to sleep back in their old place. Morgan had taken it over and he and Alex were delighted to host them. Chuck let Morgan go ahead as he and Sarah walked down to the courtyard.

"Sarah, I'm going to ask you to do something, and I would like you to give it some serious consideration before answering," Chuck turned to face her and placed his hands on either side of her, holding on to her upper arms. "I'm certain you can handle yourself in the field. You've proven that time and again the last few days, but I'm going to ask you to stay in the van for this mission."

"Chuck, I ..." Sarah began.

"Sarah, I really think it's what's best for our family. With both of us going into Castle it only increases the chances that Emma could end up losing us both."

"But Chuck I..."

"And we need someone in the van to plan coordinate the mission. Monitor their communications and keep us informed. It's not like you won't be contributing."

"Chuck, I..."

"I could stay in the van instead, but I have the Intersect. If we run into some piece of technology, or if there is another person involved, I might be able to flash and identify them."

Sarah sighed heavily and waited silently. Chuck watched for her reaction. Seconds passed. Then a minute. Finally, "Are you done?"

"Yes," Chuck said.

"Good. Can I talk?" Sarah sounded serious but the corners of her mouth were turned up slightly.

"Of course. Go ahead." Chuck smiled cautiously.

"I was going to suggest I monitor this one from the van. We will have a better chance of getting inside undetected with a smaller team and I think I am ready to start sitting these missions out."

"So you don't mind being in the van?" Chuck asked.

"No. I prefer it." Sarah waited a second, then, "You don't mind having a wife that wants to be in the van?" She turned her head to one side awaiting his answer.

"Of course not. I would be in the van with you, but... I mean, after this mission I plan to always be in the van." That wasn't quite right either. "I mean, I'm planning on sitting out of missions permanently after this too." This was closer. Then he panicked a little, "Not that you have to sit out forever now."

"Chuck, relax. I told you, I'm done. I want out. After this, I don't even want to be in the van."

"Unless it's a mini-van. Maybe a couple of car seats and a DVD player in the back."

"Let's not push it Chuck," Sarah smiled broadly. They kissed. Parted. Looked into each others' eyes, then turned and headed into their old apartment.

-O-

The next morning the black surveillance van on loan from Verbanski pulled up outside of a Java Queen coffee house. This same building served as home to the Wienerlicious and the Orange Orange frozen yogurt shop. The current tenants had no idea that their dry goods pantry concealed an entrance to a former C.I.A. base.

"All comms and video are a go," Sarah said into the microphone in the van as she watched each of the feeds from Chuck and Casey. On another monitor she watched as Morgan walked into the home theater display inside the Buy More. Morgan paused for a moment in front of the couch where Lester, in his Nerd Herd issue white shirt, black pants and black tie, snored loudly.

"It's not worth it," Morgan said to no one in particular and he opened the hatch that lead down to Castle.

"I'm going in," Morgan said.

"I've got you. Everything looks fine," Sarah said. "Remember, you want to distract, but try not to alarm her. Just play it like you're simply being helpful."

"Got it. Helpful." Morgan continued through a hallway and came up on a keypad. He punched in a six digit code and the door slid aside. Standing on the platform at the top of the stairs, Castle looked very different from the last time he was down here. Everything had a red tint to it, as though Bentley hand replaced every outlet with a red bulb or gel. The "Getaway" pinball machine and assorted games were turned off and dusty. They obviously hadn't been used since Morgan had last snuck down here on his break months ago. The Grettas that roamed the floor seemed to ignore him.

"Hello? Director Bentley?" Morgan looked from edge to edge of the room as he walked down the steps. When he reached the bottom, one of the Grettas looked up from her work at a computer terminal and got up to walk over to him.

"Can we help you?" she asked.

"Just here to talk to the boss – see how things are going. You know, no toilets plugged or lights burned out."

"She's busy right now. May I have her call you later this afternoon?"

Morgan walked right past her to the opposite side of the room. "Don't be silly. Old J.B. and I go way back. She'll be happy to see me again. Just point me the right direction and I'll find her myself."

"Sir, I'm sorry but I can't let you..." Morgan was into the hallway before she finished her sentence. The woman took two quick steps to a panel on her left and pressed a button. Before Morgan could get seven steps down the hallway, both ends where filled with Grettas of both sexes and all shapes and sizes.

"Hey, guys? Thanks, but I'm sure I can find my way on my..." He bumped into one of the Grettas from behind as he backed up further down the hallway.

He heard Sarah in his ear, "That's good Morgan. They should be in. Just another few minutes."

Chuck and Casey had made it down the stairs from the Java Queen and were heading for the new section of Castle – the one Bentley had installed and would have died in if Chuck hadn't saved her. "I'll bet she set up shop back down here," Chuck said.

"Very possible. Keep your eyes open Bartowski," Casey added tersely. As they moved down the hall, the red lights began pulsing subtly. The slight pulsing triggered Chuck's flash. "They're on to Morgan. Someone has triggered an alarm. We should be clear for a few minutes." Just as he finished that thought, they heard Sarah's voice came over the comms as she coached Morgan to stall for a few more minutes.

Chuck and Casey turned the corner to a hall with a steel door and a keypad at the end. This was the same keypad and the same room where Chuck saved Bentley's life not so many years ago. Chuck stopped in front of the door and held his open hand back to Casey. Casey placed an electronic decrypter into it. He inserted the card on the decrypter into the keycard slot and watched as the numbers rolled over the screen.

"Come on lucky sevens," Chuck said. Casey checked behind them with a grunt.

The decrypter beeped and the light on the keypad turned from red to green.

"Shall we?" Chuck smiled to Casey.

He turned the handle and entered the newly rebuilt area of Castle. The circular room was ringed with beds with an elaborate display above each. "This looks just like Bones' sickbay." In each bed a different finely toned agent lay with electrodes hooked to head and chest. Each looked to be in a deep deep sleep. Chuck walked toward one of the beds.

"What is going on here?" He flashed on the monitor above this bed. "It looks like this person is in a medically induced coma. If I have it right, this is the precursor to implanting the chip."

"None of them have the chip yet?" Casey asked.

"It doesn't look like it. But, by the looks of things, they will all be chipped in the next few hours."

"Well, we got here just in time then," Casey said as he moved toward one of the agents.

"Let's get pictures of this to send back to Beckman."

"You take pictures, I'm going to find Bentley and get that chip before she has a chance to reverse engineer it," Casey said as he headed back to the door.

"Chuck took out his iPhone and snapped a few pictures before hurrying out after Casey.

-O-

Meanwhile, Director Bentley emerged through a ring of agents and walked up to Morgan.

"So, Morgan Grimes, come down for a little visit?" she smiled at him.

"No one can accuse me of being a slum landlord. How are thing working out down here for you? You have everything you need?" he smiled nervously at Bentley.

"I will in a few minutes. I assume you are some kind of diversion for your friend Chuck and his stooge Casey. No worries, we have both entrances in the Buy More covered. They won't be able to get in here without our knowing. In the meantime, let's get you tucked away somewhere safe in case they get any ideas." She turned to one of the Grettas, "Take him to a holding cell and let the units stationed around the entrances know that we have company on the way."

"Yes sir." He took Morgan by the upper arm and led him down the hall.

"The rest of you, back to work. We need to get that chip duplicated and implanted within the next hour. I'm going to check on the condition of our next generation of Intersects."

-O-

Sarah came over Chuck and Casey's comm, "They're taking Morgan to a holding cell. She has agents stationed around both Buy More entrances, bu she doesn't have any idea about the entrance from the Java Queen. She is going to the lab you where just in, you should be running into her any..."

"Director Bentley. So good to see you again sir," Casey interrupted, tranq gun leveled at Bentley as they intercepted her just as she turned the corner. "How about you head back to the lab and get us our chip back."

Bentley touched a button on her lab coat and the lights in the hall blinked in rhythm again.

"There's more on the way," Chuck said to Casey.

"That wasn't very smart Bentley," Casey dropped her with one tranq dart to the neck.

Next, agents poured down all three halls heading to the intersection where Casey and Chuck now stood. "Follow me," Casey said.

They ran back down the hall turned a corner and continued back to the room they just left. About six feet from the keypad they just cracked, Casey began feeling the wall.

Chuck started shooting the first few agents as they rounded the corner in pursuit. "Casey, I could use a little help."

"I am helping. Here." He pressed a section of the wall and a door opened a crack. "What would a hidden CIA base be without secret passageways."

Chuck followed Casey as he pressed another hidden panel and the door closed behind them. They ran down the narrow passageway as the twisted through the center of Castle. "This should take us back to the main room." Casey put his hand to his comm, "Morgan, did you see where they were working on the chip?" He waited for an answer. "Morgan?" They continued down the halls until they came to a door and said to Chuck. "This is the main section of Castle." Then back to his comm, "Sarah? Morgan?" After another moment of silence, "The comms are down. You ready?"

Chuck nodded and Casey opened the door. With the flash, Chuck could see the entire room at once. Three agents up on the platform that headed out to the Buy More break room and a total of seven more on the floor, two to this left, three straight ahead and two more on his right. "Casey, up on the landing."

Casey stepped one more step into the room and dropped all three agents before they could unholster their guns. Chuck drew a second tranq gun and crossed his arms. Four shots and the four agents on either side were down. Casey shot one of the agents directly in front of him just as Chuck dropped the other two.

"Over here," Chuck said as he ran to a clear cylinder in the center of this room. Inside the cylinder was a glass pedestal and on the pedestal was the chip. "Here must be some control panel for this container." Chuck looked left and right for a button labeled "Open Container."

"Or, we could just," Casey drew a 9mm from his belt and shot the case. The glass shattered sending shards into the air. Chuck covered his face with his hands.

"Hey, watch it," Chuck was a little closer than he wanted to be for the shower of glass.

Casey grabbed the chip and slipped it into a Velcro pocket on his vest. "Let's get Morgan and get out of here."

"I'll get Morgan, you just get this chip out of here," Chuck said to Casey. Casey turned his head slightly and looked at Chuck. He couldn't remember Chuck giving him such a direct order before. Perhaps the geek had grown up a little.

"Okay, I'll make sure our path out is clear. Break room, right?"

"Yep. I'll be right behind you."

Casey headed up the stairs and through the door at the top while Chuck headed toward the holding cells. Morgan sat on a metal chair by a metal table inside the third cell Chuck looked into. He punched a code into the pad – they hadn't changed them.

"Hey buddy, let's go. Casey is already upstairs," Chuck said.

"No problem. I had them right where I wanted them anyway. You're doing them a favor getting me out of here before I got angry."

"We wouldn't want that," Chuck smiled. "Okay, follow me – and here, take this," Chuck tossed his second tranq gun to Morgan, "in case."

When the two of them got back to the central lab they found Director Bentley standing in the middle of the room. Chuck looked down the barrel of his tranq gun at her.

"So, you and your little band think you've got me now, eh Chuck?" Bentley said as she moved over and sat down at the table near the middle of the room. "Well, here's something you didn't consider. While Lazlo was a first class screw-up, he did considerable damage to both of us."

Chuck's brows knit and he lowered his tranq gun.

"Come on. You're smart Chuck, think about it. Why do you think the CIA kept your identity a secret for all these years? They knew what would happen if the opposition figured out what we had in your head. How many ways do you think they're going to dissect you Bartowski? And now all of the major players in the international espionage business have seen you in person. I'm a little surprised you're even standing here."

"We aren't talking about me here, you're running an illegal covert CIA operation and Beckman will see that you're brought to justice."

"We'll see about that Chuck. You going to arrest me now?"

"I'm not exactly in the CIA anymore, but your days are numbered. Mark my words."

"You have what you came for. Feel free to take the chip and go. I'll wait right here for your General friend to send her people to arrest me. But something tells me I'm not going to jail anytime soon." Bentley reclined and put her feet up on the table. "Go on. I'll be right here. Promise." Her smile made Chuck uneasy.

"Casey, do you have our exit secured?" Chuck held his hand to his ear. "Okay, I'm heading out with Morgan." Chuck walked backwards, keeping Bentley in his sight, but looking back over his shoulder for any surprises. As he walked up the stairs and keyed in the code for the door lock, Chuck took one last look at Bentley before the stepped into the Buy More break room. He was certain she waved goodbye to him.

Chuck found Casey outside by the Nerd Herd desk. "Let's go, I don't like this at all." They jogged through the front doors and out to the parking lot. The van was right where they left it. Casey opened the door and Morgan stepped in first.

"Chuck?" Morgan said.

"'Sup Buddy?"

"Did Sarah say she was going somewhere?"

"What do you mean?" Chuck poked his head into the door of the van. It was empty. "Sarah?"


	27. Chapter 26

Before Chuck could even step completely into the van his phone rang. Sarah's picture, the one where she was holding Emma the last morning they spent together as a family, came up on his phone.

"Sarah?" Chuck answered.

"Come on Chuck, you didn't really expect it to be her did you?" said a woman's voice on the other side of the phone.

"Bentley. What have you done with Sarah?"

"Really Chuck? This isn't your first time around the block. I let you walk out of here with the chip and you think you've beaten me. I knew my team grabbed Sarah just as soon as my med tech revived me from Casey's tranquilizer." Bentley sounded very proud of herself. A mocking playfulness marked all of her phrases. "I expected much more from you. But let me give you a chance to redeem yourself. Why don't you tell me what is going to happen next? I'll bet you get it right the first time."

"You want the chip."

"Very good Chuck. The way I figure it, you're dead either way. It won't be long before you're hunted down by all of Lazlo's former customers. They don't know you are some kind of freak."

"I prefer 'special'," Chuck said.

"Either way, they'll think if they have you, they'll be able to duplicate the Intersect. Look, I don't really want to make your daughter an orphan, so let's just make the exchange and wish each other the best."

"What guarantee do I have that you'll come through with your end of the bargain?" Chuck asked.

"For what it's worth, you'll have my word," the playfulness in her voice disappeared with her next words. "Chuck, all I want is the chip. Frankly, other than her taste in husbands, I have a great deal of respect for Sarah. You do your part and nothing will happen to her."

"Fine, but we do it my way. I choose the location and the time of the exchange. No more games in Castle."

"Have it your way. You do know that I am still a director with the C.I.A., right? I will be monitoring any attempt to assemble some kind of rescue. Not even your General can mobilize a team without my knowing." Bentley paused for a moment to let this sink in.

"And before you think about bringing in any of Verbanski's people, think." Nothing but space filled the next ten seconds. "How do you think I was able to find the time and place for the delivery of this chip to the U.N. so easily? I have people inside that organization too. If I hear Verbanski or any of her people are anywhere near the exchange, I simply kill Sarah and just find another way to get the chip." A few more seconds of silence, then, "Do we have a deal?"

"Let me talk to Sarah first," Chuck said.

"Very good Chuck. I think you were supposed to make that your first demand though. You may have to go back and brush up on your Hostage Negotiation 101." Bentley paused again. "You don't need to talk to her. You know I have her and frankly, she isn't able to speak right now. The tranq should wear off in an hour or so. She'll be just fine when we meet."

"If I can't talk to her, the deal's off," Chuck said sternly.

"Fine. Deal's off," Bentley said.

"Wait, let's talk this out. Just put her on the phone and then we can... Director Bentley? Are you there? Director Bentley?" Chuck looked down at the screen of his iPhone then he looked up at Casey, "She hung up."

"Of course she did Bartowski. She knows you'll do anything to make sure Sarah is safe. That's the whole reason she's going to let you pick the location. She's got you right where she wants you."

"I have to call her back."

"No way Bartowski. We have to get a hold of General Beckman and..."

"You heard what Bentley said. If we call Beckman, Sarah's finished."

"She's probably dead anyway," Casey said. The corner of his eyes retracted a little at these words. He knew what they meant to Chuck. "The important thing is that Bentley doesn't get her hands on the chip. And since I've got it, I'm going to make sure it goes..."

Casey's eyes opened wide and he turned to look at Morgan. A fresh tranq dart sticking out of his neck. He lifted his right arm and extended his fingers out toward Morgan's shoulder before falling face first onto the van floor.

"Man, he's not going to like that when he wakes up," Chuck said looking at Morgan.

Morgan just stared at Casey in disbelief. Then he looked at his hand as it held the tranq gun still pointing where Casey had just stood. He slowly opened his fingers and let the gun drop to the floor. "I'm a dead man."

"You an me both buddy," Chuck said grimly. "Bentley has a point. The entire spy community knows that I'm the Intersect. How do they know that cutting me open isn't their key to unlimited super agents?" Chuck closed the side door of the van and took a seat behind the wheel. "No, all I can do now is make sure Sarah makes it out of this alive. I'm a dead man either way."

"Come on Chuck. Don't talk like that. You've been in tougher spots before. You're the Intersect. No one can stop you."

"Even if that were true, as long as I'm alive both Sarah and Emma will be in danger." Chuck started up the van and headed back to Casey's apartment.

Chuck didn't say a word the entire way back and Morgan knew better than to try to change that. It took considerable effort on both their parts to get Casey up the steps and into his apartment. They put Casey in bed and sat down in his living room.

"Morgan, I'm not going to make it back from this one buddy. Give me a few minutes to write a few good-bye letters, okay?"

"No way. I'm not going to let you lose hope. There's got to be a way out of this."

"Any way you look at it, as long as I'm alive everyone I love is in danger. I have to do this." Chuck found some stationary and a pen in a drawer in Casey's kitchen. He sat down at the kitchen table and began to write. "When I finish these, I need you to make sure everyone gets them, okay?"

Morgan nodded slowly.

"I'll leave Casey's letter here," he didn't look up as he continued to write. "Just a few minutes, okay buddy?"

"Sure thing Chuck. I'll wait down in my apartment."

After about forty-five minutes, Morgan heard a knock at his door. Chuck walked in. Okay buddy, here are the letters," he handed fine envelopes to Morgan, each with a different name on them. "Alright, let's get this started." He pulled out his iPhone and hit the button for Sarah.

After three rings, "Hey Chuck. Glad you decided to call back," Bentley sounded relaxed and confident. "So, have you given things any thought?"

"You know what I'm going to do. Nothing is more important than Sarah."

"Now you're beginning to get it Chuck. Good for you. So does that mean you've picked a place?"

"Yes. There's a factory about fifteen miles out of town, the Jackson-Haustler Metal Fabrication plant. I worked there a few summers in high school. Meet me in the finishing room in one hour."

"I'll be there. Just be smart Chuck and no one has to get hurt. You get what you want and I get what I want."

"Just be there," Chuck said, and this time he hung up the phone.

-O-

On the drive over Chuck and Morgan were uncharacteristically quiet.

"We'll find a way out of this buddy, I know we will," Morgan said.

"Not this time Morgan. Look, things might get pretty hairy inside the plant. I need you to promise to do two things, no matter what happens."

"Anything for you Chuck, you know that."

"Okay, first – when we get there, I'm going to tie into their video security. I need you to record everything that goes down and as soon as it's over you have to upload it to the address I've bookmarked on the computer in the back."

"Yea, no problem Chuck."

"Listen Morgan, that is the most important part of the entire operation. No matter what happens, get it on video and upload it." Chuck took his eyes off the road to stare straight into Morgan's. "No matter what."

"Got it, no problem. What's the other thing?"

"Take care of Sarah and Emma," Chuck said quietly.

"Hey, don't talk like that. This is a simple exchange. You've done what? Hundreds of these? It'll be fine."

"Just promise me that if anything happens you'll take care of them," Chuck said.

"Of course buddy," Morgan paused. "But, let's concentrate on the mission here. Positive thoughts. How's this going to go down?"

"Pretty straightforward I hope. There's a platform above the finishing room where I should be able to see everything. After we tap into surveillance, I'm hoping we'll see her people on the ground, and I should be able to keep watch on everything from above. I've put the chip into this tennis ball. I'm going to toss it down to her and hope she holds up her end of the bargain."

"Piece of cake."

"Hey, one other thing buddy," Chuck said.

"You name it."

"Don't open your letter until – or if – you have to, okay?" Morgan nodded. "I mean, you know I love you like a brother, right?" Nodded again. "Good. It's just hard to find a way to say it. I'm sure whatever I wrote in there is awkward and embarrassing, so if you wait until..."

"Say no more. This envelope remains sealed. Forever, I hope."

"Thanks Morgan. Okay, we're here. I'll get you tied into the security and get my comm link up and running and we can get this show on the road."


	28. Chapter 27

"Alright Chuck, I have audio and video. Let's get you in there and get Sarah back," Morgan said over the comm from the Verbanski surveillance van. "I'd feel a little better about this if we had Casey around."

"This'll be easy. Casey would be bored," Chuck said as he walked to the door of the Jackson-Haustler Metal Fabrication plant. This place should be perfect. He still remembered the layout from his high school summer job and the look they got with the security cams verified that Bentley had set up her men right where Chuck expected. _Got to stay sharp,_ Chuck told himself as he approached the door to the factory.

Once inside he faced a labyrinth of catwalks and hallways. The giant plant was divided into sections. There was a CNC area, a metal stamping section, a paint booth and a room where the metal parts were cleaned prior to painting called the finishing room. He chose this room for the meet. It was near the back of the plant and allowed for easy exit once the exchange was made.

"Okay Morgan, I have the door to the finishing room in sight, this should all be over in no time."

"Uh, yea. Chuck, before you go in, I have something I have to ask you."

"What's that Morgan?"

"It's about the letters."

"What about them?"

"Well, I opened mine and... Chuck?"

"Yea Morgan."

"It's blank."

"I know buddy. We're been friends for so long. How do you put all that into words."

"You could have at least given it a shot, don't you think?"

"Look, I'm a little busy right now Morgan. How about we take this up after the mission, okay?"

"I just hope your letter to Sarah is a little better," Morgan muttered.

"It is buddy. Okay, can we focus here?"

Chuck opened the door to the finishing room. He came out on a platform above a large vat of caustic chemicals used to clean the metal parts before the paint is applied. A catwalk extended above the vat to roughly the middle of the room. The chemical mixture below boiled and churned and a faint chemical odor wafted up from the open tank. A giant exhaust hood in the ceiling above Chuck sucked most of the chemical gas upwards.

Bentley, four Grettas, and Sarah, cuffed to an office chair, were all assembled on the floor of this room. Chuck was pretty sure there were more agents stationed around the room he couldn't see. No problem. He wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize this exchange. This had to go perfectly.

"I'm picking up eight distinct heartbeats in the room Chuck," Morgan said into the comm in Chuck's ear. There were some pretty sweet toys in that Verbanski van, Chuck thought.

The room was larger than Chuck remembered. A long conveyor ran around the room, delivering parts to a metallic arm that grasped them, dropped them into the caustic chemical cleaning vat and then placed them on a second conveyor that took them to the powder coating room. Chuck had a chance to learn a lot about metal fabrication that summer of his junior year.

"Mr. Bartowski, you made it. Nice to see you," Director Jane Bentley smiled up at him from the floor. "You see I have honored my end of the bargain." She pointed to a bound and gagged Sarah. "I trust you have yours."

Chuck held up a fuzzy green tennis ball. "Right here Bentley. How do we do this?"

"Oh, come on Chuck – you've done this before. Toss me the ball, I verify and I'm out of here."

"How do I know you'll hold up your end of the bargain?"

"Please Chuck. You know better. You don't." Bentley smiled and let that sink in. "I promise you once I have that chip I'll leave both of you alone forever. Provided, of course, you return the favor."

"Don't worry, we're out of the spy business for good. You do what you want with this."

"I will. And soon my command will be populated with unstoppable super agents. I will be the most powerful C.I.A. director of the most powerful country in the world. There won't be anyone, or anything that can stop me. Finally, all of these petty dictators, these foreign terrorists hiding in caves all over Afghanistan and Pakistan, will be quaking in terror at the thought of my super agents infiltrating and destroying their miserable little lives."

"Bentley, skip the evil villain preamble, just take this and leave my wife," Chuck stepped out on the catwalk and stood right over the vat. He held the ball high and prepared to toss it down to Bentley and her Grettas.

It was Sarah that saw it first, but she was gagged. All she could manage was a muffled scream. She strained at the cuffs and leg shackles in vain as she tried to rise from the chair. It was just a glint of metal at first that caught her eye. She followed the barrel back to a hand and the hand to a muscled forearm.

Bentley looked down at Sarah's struggling then up to where Sarah's gaze directed. She too saw a glint of metal in the shadows. While Bentley was going over the plan again in her head trying to figure out which agent this was, Sarah had worked her gag from out of her mouth. The terror in her scream made even the most experienced of the Grettas shudder perceptively. "Chuck. Casey. NO."

Chuck turned to his right, back to the door he walked through a moment ago. "You didn't think I was going to let you turn traitor did you Bartowski?" Casey leveled his .45 directly at Chuck's chest. "Now, toss me the ball."

"Casey, I can't. Sarah."

"I know Chuck, but you can't put one person, any one person, over the interests of the United States of America."

Over the comm Morgan began chattering nervously into Chuck's ear. "How did Casey get here? I thought we left him back at his apartment? What is he doing? Chuck, just toss the ball and get out of there."

"Colonel Casey. Stand down," Bentley barked.

"It's over Jane. I've recorded your traitorous plan and it is being uploaded to Beckman as we speak. She'll have a team assembled in minutes and on their way to lock you up forever."

"Bentley, don't listen to him," Chuck spoke now. "I'll toss you the chip and you can still get out of here before anyone knows about this. Casey hasn't been able to send anything. I've been jamming everything in and out of here from the van. Look, I have a guy on this comm," Chuck reached into his ear and pulled out the unit to show to Bentley. He turned back to Casey. "John. This is Sarah. What did you expect me to do?"

"Sorry Chuck, I can't let you do this. Give me the ball Chuck."

Sarah's scream echoed through the room as she watched Chuck turn toward Bentley and pull his arm back to throw. Her scream was drowned out, but just barely, by the report from Casey's gun as he fired three quick bursts into Chuck's back. Chuck staggered forward and flipped clumsily over the rail. As he fell, his eyes met Sarah's for an instant before he splashed into the caustic chemical mixture that simmered in the vat below.

An agent, Bentley assumed he was one of hers, took off his coat and rushed to the ladder that ran up the side of the vat. He flew up the rungs and plunged his arm into the liquid in an attempt to reach for Bartowski. With a scream, he pulled up his right arm but there was only an empty short sleeved dress shirt where his arm used to be. He slumped over the side of the vat continuing to scream in pain before he fell silent in shock or death.

Director Bentley, seeing all of this turned to her team, "It's off. Everyone out." One of the Grettas headed to the ladder to help the recently amputated agent. "Leave him. We have to go, now." She dropped the keys to the cuffs at Sarah's feet and disappeared through the exit at the back of the room.

John Casey ran over to a button on the wall and hit it with his palm. Horns sounded and the chemicals in the vat quickly drained down three large openings in the vat's floor. He ran to the rail and leaned over, but the vat was empty. He descended a ladder and walked over to the chair where Sarah slumped. She looked up weakly at him.

"Tell me this was part of a plan? Tell me he's okay," she sobbed.

"Walker, I'm sorry. I couldn't let him..."

"Get away from me! Get out of here! I'm going to kill you John Casey," Sarah tugged in vain at the restraints, tears flooding her pale cheeks.

Her anguished screams tore through Casey and tears burned her cheeks as Casey calmly walked up the stairs to the side of the vat and picked up the one-armed, unconscious agent, gave the empty vat one more look and carried the agent down the stairs and out the back door.

"I swear to God John, if it is the last thing I do I'm going to kill you!"

_Author's note - It is interesting how this story has taken shape. Some of the reviews - especially the more analytical ones - have really helped me confront some of the logical problems these situations have presented. I'm not saying Chuck died because of any particular review or reviewer, but I did have to consider some of the possible outcomes in light of the problems created for Chuck and Sarah in this story._

_All that being said, you will really want to stick around and find out how/what Sarah does as a result of all of this. There are only two or three chapters left. Tell your friends._

_As always, thanks for reading and reviewing. If you haven't reviewed yet, please consider taking a moment to let me know how I'm doing. _


	29. Chapter 28

Morgan navigated the maze of hallways, finally arriving at the finishing room to see the empty vat and Sarah handcuffed and shackled to a chair. She looked so small in the middle of the room as she slumped sobbing and straining at her restraints.

Morgan and Sarah could hear a military helicopter outside, then small arms fire, then silence.

"Looks like Casey brought in Beckman after all," Sarah said weakly under her breath. "One last win for Casey before I kill him."

Morgan ran down the stairs, grabbed the keys at Sarah's feet and started to unlock her cuffs. As soon as he finished unshackling her feet, she sprinted up the shorter stairs that ran to the edge of the vat. When she reached the top of the steps, she slowed. It was completely empty and the three large valves that opened to drain the chemicals sat closed. She fought the urge to jump into the vat. Clearly, there was nothing left of Chuck to dive in after and the longer she waited here, the further away Casey would get.

She ran down the stairs and confronted Morgan.

"Where's the van?" she seemed to look right through Morgan.

"I can't believe Casey did this," Morgan said weakly.

"The van. Where is it," she repeated. Her stare was cold. "I have business to tend to."

"It's out front, but..."

Sarah ran up the stairs and headed for the door she saw Chuck walk through just minutes before. She hesitated for a second before she turned the door handle. Minutes ago his hand had opened this door. She saw him and now he was gone. Her knees suddenly felt weak, but the image of Casey standing there with his .45 steadied her.

She opened the door and headed down a hallway. Morgan was right behind her.

"Where am I going?" she asked. If Morgan hadn't studied the layout with Chuck, he would be lost too.

"Follow me," Morgan said as he broke into a sprint down the corridors of the factory.

They burst through the front doors of the plant and headed for the van. "You'll have to find a different ride home," Sarah said. "You don't want to be around when I find Casey."

"You forget, Chuck was my best friend," he grabbed her upper arm to punctuate his point. Sarah looked to his hand on her arm, then directly back to his face. He let go.

"Fine. Come if you want. But stay out of my way," Sarah warned.

"I'll drive," Morgan said.

"I don't think so," Sarah moved around to the driver's side. "I want to catch him, and frankly we have a much better chance of that with me behind the wheel."

Morgan followed her around to the driver's door. "And exactly how are you going to find him? He could be anywhere by now," Morgan said with as much courage as he could muster. Sarah froze, her hand on the handle of the driver's door.

"But, luckily you have me. And, I have an idea," Morgan waited for a moment. When he was certain Sarah wasn't going to wheel around and kill him, he continued. "When I was with Verbanski Corp. she had me chipped. She has all of her operatives chipped. If you can figure out how to isolate Casey's signal, we should be able to track him down with the equipment in the van."

Sarah turned and looked at Morgan. He took a step back and his eyes widened slightly. He jumped as she spoke, "You drive."

Sarah entered the rear of the van and sat down at a terminal to try to figure out how to track Casey's signal. She started with by filtering according to proximity. There was one signal about a mile out and heading away. Morgan started the van, dropped it into drive and sped out of the parking lot. "Where would you like me to go?" Morgan asked.

"Give me a minute... Here. It looks like he's heading ... back to his apartment? Surely he must know I'll look for him there?" She looked out the side window of the van. "What could he be thinking?"

"So, back to Echo Park then?" Morgan asked.

Sarah heard him, but something on one of the other monitors had a taken all of her attention. "Morgan? What's this?" She pointed to a still of the video feed from inside the factory.

"You... um. That's... ah. You don't want to watch that," Morgan said looking into the rear view mirror and guessing what Sarah was referring to.

"Why is this up? Why did you record this?" They both knew it wasn't standard practice to record missions. Best not to have some of the things they had to do on missions surface years later.

"I was on strict orders from Chuck," Morgan spoke quickly. "He was very clear. He wanted this video uploaded to the site he bookmarked 'no matter what'."

"So you sent this?" Sarah spoke quietly. She backed up the video and played it starting just before Casey put three slugs into Chuck's back. She watched frame by frame as he toppled over the railing and plunged into the vat. Nothing. The bubbling and churning of the liquid in the vat obscured any sight of him. She backed it up and ran it again, watching him as he disappeared into the vat of acid. She stopped the video just as the Bentley's agent lost his arm in the swirling liquid. That didn't strike her as a very smart thing to do at the time and the replay didn't make it look any more intelligent. He couldn't expect the ball or the chip would survive the acid?

"Where did Chuck have you send this?" Sarah asked Morgan.

"I don't know. I just uploaded it to the site Chuck had marked then I came running in to you as fast as I could."

Sarah clicked on the link Chuck set up for Morgan. It directed him to a file sharing site connected to V.I.C.T.O.R. Sarah tried to access Chuck's computer creation to see if she could find out where this video went. It took two tries, but the name 'Emma Mary' with her birth date, including hour and minute, spread between each letter of the name worked as she suspected.

Once inside V.I.C.T.O.R. it was a little difficult finding her way around. She was nowhere as adept as Chuck at cracking computers, but her years of watching him sip Chardonnay and type at the keyboard gave her some insights. The thought of Chuck lost in the reverie of hacking sent a wash of sadness over Sarah. She tried to see the V.I.C.T.O.R.'s interface through her tears. Despite the fact that she could barely see, she was able to trace the path of the video surprisingly easily. Chuck sent it everywhere. YouTube, Vimeo, and a dozen other video sharing sites simultaneously. All with the title, "Death of the Intersect".

"Chuck knew he was going to die," Sarah said. "He did this to protect us."

"What?" Morgan divided his time pretty evenly between the road and watching Sarah work in the rear view mirror. "What do you mean?"

"He set it up so that when you uploaded this video it would instantly create hits in every espionage agency in the world – legitimate and otherwise. Everyone who might have an interest in the Intersect knows Chuck is dead."

"That's why he wrote the letters," Morgan said.

"What letters?" Sarah looked up from the computer terminal.

"Yours is on the table under my copy of _Entertainment Weekly_," Morgan said.

Sarah lifted the magazine and saw four envelopes, one for her, one for Chuck's mother, one for Ellie and one for Emma. She picked up Emma's letter first, paused for a moment, then ran her fingernail along the fold on the side.

She slid the letter out slowly and recognized Chuck's handwriting immediately.

_My precious Emma,_

_You need to know that you are the best gift anyone could ever wish for. I know you're going to be an amazing woman. Beautiful and brave like your mother, and funny like me (at least I think I'm hilarious) I know you'll have the best of both of us. I want you to know that your happiness and safety have always been the most important thing to me. Everything your mother and I do, we do to make sure your healthy, happy and safe. If I don't get a chance to say all of this to you in person, keep this so you will always know how much I love you and your mother._

_Love Always,_

_Dad_

Morgan stopped looking in the rear view mirror. Obviously, Chuck had written more in the other letters than he did in his and Morgan wanted to give Sarah some privacy. Even though he didn't look, he could hear her sobs. He wanted nothing more than to say something to comfort her, but words failed him.

Sarah picked up the letter addressed to her next. She held it up and smelled the envelope. It didn't smell like Chuck. It didn't smell like anything. Sitting up a little straighter in her chair, she examined the lettering on the front of the plain white envelope. 'Sarah' in cursive, almost perfectly centered.

She wiped a tear from her cheek and once again slit the end of the letter open with her fingernail to slide the letter out. Before she unfolded it, something on the monitor in front of her caught her eye. Casey arrived in the courtyard was heading to the apartment Alex and Morgan shared.

"Morgan, is Alex home?" she asked.

"I think so. She was going to try to put together a new plan for the wedding seeing as the Chicago wedding turned out to be a bust."

"Call her and tell her to get out of the house," Sarah said.

"You don't think Casey would hurt his own daughter?" Morgan asked.

"No. He doesn't have any reason to hurt her, but he has to know that once you tell her what he did, she'll never speak to him again." Sarah watched the tracker as Casey moved into Morgan's apartment. "I don't know what he plans to do, but you need to get a hold of Alex and make some excuse for her to get out of the house."

"I'll call, but we're going to be at the apartment in two minutes. Less if I can hit some lights," Morgan began fumbling for his phone.

"Two minutes, got it." Sarah began rummaging the van for guns an ammunition. She couldn't find anything except the tranq gun Chuck let Morgan use on missions. "Didn't Chuck bring anything?" she said, more to herself than to Morgan. She looked over the tranq gun again. "Of course he didn't. This'll have to do."

Morgan slipped his phone back into his pocket, "No answer."

"Did you leave a message?" Sarah asked.

"I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't think a voice mail was the place to tell the woman I love her father executed my best friend."

Casey had moved out of the apartment and into the courtyard. Then, from the courtyard to into his apartment. She knew he was arrogant, but he had to realize the danger of hiding in plain sight when the C.I.A.'s best assassin was looking for him. It is possible he wanted to die, she thought.

Sarah looked down at the letter in her lap, unfolded it and read.

Tears flowed over her smiling cheeks as she read the words her husband wrote her.

_Author's note - I see two more chapters to this story. I have one almost finished and the other planned. Thanks for reading this far. I hope the last two chapters make this story worth your time. As always, thanks for the reviews and comments. Please try to avoid spoilers in the reviews (like Chuck's death) as I would like some of this to be a surprise._

_Thanks,_

_Eric_


	30. Chapter 29

"We're here," Morgan said.

Sarah was out the sliding side door of the van before it stopped with tranq gun in one hand and letter in the other. She was hastily folding the letter and stuffing it into her back pocket as she ran to the entrance of the courtyard. It didn't look like she remembered it. All she could see was the courtyard the way it looked on the evening of their rehearsal dinner. Lights strung from the balconies and draped across the entire length of the space. She never imagined her life would allow for so many friends gathered with smiles and drinks. It was Sarah that almost died that day. With new memories coming back everyday, she was constantly reliving days like this. They felt brand new, but with an underlying feeling that reassured her that these experiences had been part of her for a long time.

Dodging ghosts, she raced to the door of Casey's apartment.

Morgan double parked the van, slammed it into park and tried to catch up to Sarah. As she reached Casey's door, Morgan suddenly realized he was unarmed. He looked left and right for something he could use as a weapon. He broke a stick off one of the bushes and ran to Casey's door.

Sarah had already opened it and had disappeared into Casey's living room.

The first thing Sarah saw was the one armed agent from the finishing room sitting on Casey's couch flipping through channels with his one good hand. Casey was standing in his kitchen with a newly opened beer.

"In the shower," Casey said.

Sarah ran down the hall and burst through the closed bathroom door.

"Hey, can't a guy get a little privacy here," Chuck had just stepped out of the shower. He had one towel wrapped around his waist and was drying his hair with another.

Sarah pulled the towel off of his head and pushed him back against the shower door with a long deep kiss. Her hands ran over him taking inventory of his physical self. He was all there.

"I thought," she said breathlessly.

Chuck looked dazed yet pleased. "I left you a note. Didn't Morgan...?"

"I just read it. I was too busy planning Casey's demise to even think about letters. And Morgan didn't know what to say to me. He didn't tell me about the letter until we were almost here." Sarah kissed him again.

"I'm here and I'm fine," Chuck said breathlessly when he emerged from this next kiss. "Did Morgan send the file?"

"Yes. The world now officially thinks Charles Carmichael is dead." Sarah pulled him close again – a little too tightly this time, "I so did I for a minute."

In the living room, Morgan charged in just in time to see Sarah running down the hall. He rushed Casey with his stick, not exactly knowing what he would do once he crossed the floor.

"Arrgghh!" Morgan shouted, trying to manufacture courage during the charge.

"Moron," Casey said. "He's in the bathroom."

Morgan stopped.

"In a jar?" Morgan's eyebrows knit together.

"No. In the shower," Casey said.

Morgan turned and finally noticed the one armed man on the couch. "Hey man. How are you?"

The one armed man waved his hand, still holding the remote. "Hey."

"Wait? You're one of Bentley's agents? You were the guy..." he pointed to the man's amputated arm. "Dude, shouldn't you see a doctor or something?"

"Morgan, this is Major Andrew Leeson. He's an old buddy of mine and an Army Ranger," Casey began.

"Nice to meet you... Morgan is it?" Major Leeson nodded and turned his attention back to the television, put down the remote and picked up a bottle of beer from the table next to him.

"He lost the arm to a roadside bomb in Afghanistan two years ago. He's stationed stateside now," Casey continued.

"So his arm..." the fog was beginning to clear around Morgan.

Chuck and Sarah emerged from the hallway. Chuck had found a pair of Casey's sweatpants and a t-shirt to wear. He was still drying his hair.

"Chuck! Dude..." Morgan ran and clenched his friend in a huge bear hug. "But, I saw you fall in the vat?"

"I know buddy. That's what I needed you to see." Morgan released Chuck and stepped back a pace or two.

"You see Morgan, Lazlo had completely blown my cover. And on top of that, he led people to believe that with me and this new chip, anyone could create their own army of Intersects. I could never fight off all of the Fulcrums and Rings of the world. I had to give them all a reason to forget about me."

"But the acid?"

"Yeah, about that," Chuck said. "When you went downstairs and left me to write my goodbye letters, I revived Casey and he and I came up with this plan. He got to the plant ahead of us, drained the vat and filled it with a warm salty bubble bath. Then he switched the vat to its cleaning cycle and let the bubbles and foam do their thing."

"Calling my friend Leeson here was my idea," Casey said with a proud smile. "We needed a way to keep people from looking too closely at the vat. I banked on the fog of war creating enough confusion so Bentley wouldn't know where he came from. Once he raced up the stairs, he just unsnapped his artificial arm and acted the part of a man eaten by acid."

"Very convincing act too, I'm told," said Chuck with a smile. Major Leeson raised his beer and nodded his head.

"I stowed a diving tank and regulator at the bottom of the vat and called Beckman," Casey said.

"Even though Bentley could monitor all of the communications at the C.I.A. and Verbanski Corp., you don't serve as a general in intelligence for as many years as she has without making some very powerful friends."

"So the gunfire outside?" Sarah asked.

"All former special forces," Casey said. "It was just dumb luck that there was an airshow in Burbank this weekend and a bunch of guys from the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment were in town. She knew their former commander and they were all more than happy to stretch their legs a little."

"So you went into the vat..." Morgan's voice trailed off.

"Casey shot me, which hurt by the way – even with the vest," he turned to Casey who simply shrugged, smiled and took a drink of his beer, "and I did my best flop into the water. Once under water I flashed, grabbed the regulator and waited for Casey to open the discharge valves." Chuck laid the towel for his hair over the chair next to him. "The tricky part was squeezing through the pipes. I had to swim with the tank in front of me to fit. I came out into a holding tank that Casey opened before we arrived." Chuck smiled and looked around the room. "Pretty ingenious plan, if I do say so myself."

"You had all this planned and you didn't tell me?" Morgan said.

"Buddy you're a good actor, but I couldn't trust that you wouldn't crack once you saw Sarah. I had to assume that Bentley had the entire room wired. I couldn't take the chance that you wouldn't soften when you saw Sarah in tears."

"What? Me crack? No way. It would take more than the tears of a beautiful deadly assassin to..." Morgan looked to Sarah who smiled back at him, her arms once again wrapped around Chuck as he slid his arm over her shoulders. Morgan looked down at his shoes, "Yea, I guess you're right."

"Now," Casey said as he walked out of the kitchen and toward Morgan, "let's talk about the tranq dart you put in my neck."

_Author's note - Just so you know, this was the ending even before all of the death threats and protests of concern. :) Hope you're having fun with this._

_ Would like to publicly pay proper credit to Ghost in the Machine who helped me come up with this path through his insights and observations - he really challenged me while writing this._

__Can't thank you all enough for the reviews. Would like to remind all of the people nice enough to take time to review this to try not to give away some of the plot points in the review so others can discover them. If you have a concern or suggestion regarding some of the plot related events, please private message them if it would spoil surprises. Thanks.__

_One chapter left to tie everything up and get everyone back together. Miles away from finishing it, but hoping to get some work done on it this weekend. _


	31. Chapter 30

A man with a large bouquet of flowers raced past Sarah heading to a makeshift alter at the end of their new backyard. This was not the same suburban Chicago house Chuck and Sarah woke up in just a few months ago, but an 19th century farmhouse on 160 acres in rural Southwest Wisconsin. The Chicago home was still on the market, but because Sarah and Chuck were able to pay cash, the purchase went down quickly. The grand Victorian style home had two floors and a full attic. A huge wrap-around porch started at the front door and ran all the way to the back patio of the house. A porch swing hung just to the left of the red front door. A round turret that rose the entire three stories punctuated the facade to the right of this door. The round room on the second floor next to Chuck and Sarah's new bedroom had quickly become Sarah's favorite place to sit and read to Emma. Chuck had found a rocking chair at a local Goodwill. That, and a round pattered throw rug was all it took to make the house start to feel like home.

Their bedroom, an open airy space with windows on the south and east walls, contained an old four poster bed left behind by the former owners. The mammoth frame looked like it had be built on sight, and with no discernible way to disassemble it, Chuck assumed it was just too difficult to move. Opening the windows on a sunny afternoon like this one swept all of the stuffiness of the old home right out over the waving corn and alfalfa fields. The rest of the house was conspicuously free of furniture, for now.

Right after Chuck's funeral, a small ceremony for Charles Carmichael, Sarah returned to Chicago with Ellie, Mary and Emma and closed up the house without Chuck. They thought it best to put Chuck "underground" until enough time passed so that any interested parties would be convinced that the widow was doing her best to move on alone. She bought a condo in the Chicago suburbs and lived there without Chuck for a few weeks while he roamed the Midwest countryside taking pictures and videos of home after home and sending them back to Sarah where they would look over them via Skype each night.

The afternoon he first drove up the quarter mile lane that led to this house to meet their realtor, he knew he was done searching. It sat upon a hill with a line of pine trees along the north side of the yard and small forest of ancient oaks and full maples on the east and west sides of the house. The south faced the road, and from the second story turret window Chuck could see close to two miles down the road in either direction. While this might be a practical necessity for a while, it's not what convinced Chuck this would be his last stop. That thought came first when he saw the white picket fence that completely encircled the yard and the red door front door that became visible as he crested the hill. The first photo he took captured the fence and door and it was the only picture Sarah would need to see.

But it wasn't the first photo he showed her that night. "Okay Sarah, it was a pretty busy day. Jerry and I saw five houses today. Ready for the photos?" Chuck said into the camera of his iPad via Skype.

Sarah was holding Emma in her lap so she could see daddy's face on the computer. "Okay, ready," she sat up a little straighter and brushed the hair away from her right eye.

"Well, there's this one," Chuck sent a picture of a nice ranch style home circa 1970. The two and a half car attached garage with brown garage door on the right and the large picture window in the front room. Two smaller windows ran the length of the house to the left of the front door where the bedrooms would be.

"Next," Sarah said, smile dimming slightly.

"Okay. How about this one?" Chuck posted a picture of a large white Colonial, complete with a set of five pillars.

"That looks a little too much like the White House. Next," Sarah looked down and smiled at Emma who was reaching out to touch the screen.

"Hmm, I didn't like the next two much. I could show you those, I guess... Or, how about this one?" Chuck posted the picture of the Victorian with the white fence and red door.

Sarah smiled, her eyes crinkled at the corners and she quickly wiped away a single tear that had begun to slip down her right cheek. "That's it. That's our new home."

They moved in two weeks later and now, one week after that, Chuck watched as Sarah, with Emma in one arm, directed the scores of decorators, caterers, landscapers and workmen that were swarming their spacious backyard. Her hair down, she wore a beautiful light blue sun dress and matching blue flats. Chuck was wearing his favorite pair of khaki cargo shorts, tennis shoes with no socks and a sweatshirt with the Stanford "S" on the front. The afternoon autumn sun slanted through the oak and maple trees ablaze with yellows and reds.

"No. I want the stage over here," Sarah pointed to a space just outside the white picket fence with her free arm, "as long as we can get stairs so people can get up on the stage from this side of the fence."

"Yes Mrs. Bartowski," the man in blue jeans and a t-shirt that advertised a local bar said. He tipped his Packer baseball cap as he hurried over to a knot of men sorting a shipment of lumber.

"Where are you going with that?" Sarah scolded a young girl carting newly assembled centerpieces to the dining tables. "We can't put those out now? The flowers might get nipped by frost tonight."

"Yes, Mrs. Bartowski," the girl said, standing hopelessly in front of Sarah holding a newly arranged centerpiece with white lilies, carnations, light pink roses, and chrysanthemums. She clearly had no idea where to put these until tomorrow morning.

"Put them in the barn please. There should be plenty of room in the milk house dear," Sarah pointed past the fence, down the hill to a large red barn with a small white building attached to the front.

"Oh, yes ma'am," the girl said and quickly scampered away.

"What are you doing?" Sarah said with a mixture of irritation and amusement as she walked over to three of her decorator's assistants who were running lights over an arbor they brought in to make up part of the makeshift alter.

John Casey and Gertrude Verbanski walked up behind Chuck while he was watching Sarah. They were both dressed in all black. John wore a black bowling style button up shirt and black slacks while Gertrude wore a stylish, yet conservative black dress that hit her just below the knee. "Looks like she may have missed her calling?" Casey said surprising Chuck.

Chuck turned around. "Oh, hey Casey," he flashed a wide smile at them both, "Gertrude." He turned back to look at Sarah, "What's that? Wedding planner?"

"I was thinking field general," Casey pulled up his cigar and drew in the rich nutty smoke.

"I don't think I've ever been this frightened of her," Chuck said, only half joking. He turned back to John and Gertrude. "Do you guys have bags? I can show you..."

Sarah walked over and gave Casey a one armed hug, "The father of the bride. Glad you're here. Hi Gertrude."

"Thanks Walker, you two have a very nice..."

"They're setting up the bar over there. The gentleman with the vest wants to talk to you about the open bar," Sarah pointed to a young man in a black vest, white shirt and blue jeans.

"Yessir," John said as he looked to Chuck, raised his eyebrows, and marched obediently in the direction Sarah pointed with Gertrude in tow.

"Chuck?" Sarah turned to him now.

"Yes my love?" Chuck stood a little straighter.

"Honey, could you hang on to Emma for a minute. I want to help these kids string the lights. They have no concept of symmetry."

Relieved, Chuck took Emma from Sarah and took her over to look at the newly planted burning bushes against the house.

Ellie, Devon and Clara drove up the lane next. Chuck walked over. He knew his niece would want to see Emma. She loved playing with her little cousin. Ellie stepped out of the driver's side and walked over to Chuck and gave him a big hug. "I'll take this," she said and lifted Emma out of the crook of Chuck's arm. "Hello beautiful," Emma smiled at her aunt.

"Hey bro," Devon gave Chuck a quick 'bro' hug. "This is the new place? Love it."

"Thanks Devon. Let me give you the tour," Chuck couldn't begin to explain how relieved he was to have something to do that would take him out of the range of his wife right now.

"Dude, that barn is yours too? Are you going to start farming?" As Devon and Chuck walked down the hill past a long green metal equipment shed to the barn, the girl working on the center pieces hurried back up the hill for a second load.

"Not sure I'm cut out to be a farmer, but it's nice to have the space. I'm thinking about putting a giant man cave in here. You know, HD projector, game room, the works."

"Think of the gym you could put in this space," Devon smiled as they walked into the milk house.

Back up at the house Ellie found Sarah standing on a ladder stringing lights through a large white arbor. When she saw Ellie she lept from the second to top rung and landed adeptly on the grass. Two quick strides and she gave Ellie a long hug. "It's so good to see you again." Sarah knelt down by Clara, "And look at how big you're getting. You must have grown three inches since I last saw you."

"Aunt Sarah, you just saw me last week. I didn't grow that much," she smiled and reached up to hug Sarah around the neck. Ellie had come up with Clara to do a little cleaning during the move in and to help Sarah with some of the pre-wedding planning.

"Well, it must just be how grown up you look in your beautiful dress," Sarah said to Clara as she stood up.

"So, what can I do to help?" Ellie said looking around at all the commotion.

"I think we're good here," Sarah said. Suddenly her head snapped around in the direction of the workers building the stage. "What are you going to do with that?" she walked off briskly leaving Ellie, Clara and Emma to watch the organized chaos without her.

"Ellie," John walked up to Ellie. "You remember Gertrude?"

"John, of course. Gertrude, good to see you again." Gertrude returned her smile. "So John, your little girl is getting married. You must be excited to walk her down the aisle."

"Yes. Even if Grimes is waiting at the other end," John said.

"Don't let him fool you," Gertrude said, "he really likes the fuzzy little guy." She grabbed Casey's arm with her two arms and smiled up at him.

The open affection made Ellie just a little uncomfortable. It was strange to see John Casey in love. Good, but strange.

All of them turned to look down the lane as they heard gravel under tires. Morgan was pulling up with Alex, Big Mike and Bolonia. Morgan parked in the middle of the lane outside the main gate of the white picket fence. Sarah, upon seeing them arrive, walked over to greet them.

"You're early," Sarah said as she hugged each of them in turn. "No matter. I think we ready here. Let's get out to the rehearsal dinner."

"Can we see how the back yard is coming along?" Alex strained to look past Sarah and over the fence.

"We aren't quite ready for you yet, but don't worry everything will be perfect by the time we get back," Sarah started herding Morgan and Alex back to their car. She saw Chuck heading back up the hill from the barn with Devon. "Chuck, honey. You ready to head to the rehearsal dinner?"

"All set," he quickened his pace now. "Morgan, buddy," they hugged.

"I'll be back in a second, why don't you give Morgan directions to the restaurant?" Sarah walked back to the side of the house and began a rather animated conversation with the decorator. She was pointing at various places in the yard while the decorator nodded and jotted notes down in a small notebook she carried.

"Dude, Sarah looks pretty intense," Morgan leaned over to Chuck.

"You have no idea," Chuck said. "You thought mission prep was serious. She's been on this for a week now, but today is by far the worst I've seen her. This morning she..." Chuck stopped suddenly as Sarah turned to look directly at him. There's no way she could have heard him from there, he thought. Could she?

Sarah walked over and they all divided into cars and drove off to the rehearsal dinner.

The family style fish fry was one of the unique Wisconsin Friday night traditions Chuck liked the best. Plate after plate of crispy deep fried cod in a light beer batter passed from hand to hand around a large round table. Potato pancakes, apple sauce (for the pancakes apparently), rye bread and cole slaw rounded out the simple yet delicious rehearsal dinner menu. Pitchers of New Glarus Spotted Cow helped to wash everything down.

Conversation centered mainly around the new couple and their plans for the next year or so. Morgan still managed the Buy More and Alex decided to take her police science degree to law school. She took the LSATs a week ago. She would start applying as soon as she got the results back.

After dinner they all headed back to the Bartowski Farm. A small jazz combo had just finished sound check and began to run a few numbers while waiting for the group to return. Each table had a fishbowl with a floating candle in it and the lights strung around the yard looked like stars. Sarah surveyed the backyard with a sense of satisfaction. Everything was coming together nicely, she thought.

In addition to all of the wedding preparations, Sarah had made sure they would have enough beds, pillows, towels and sheets to house their guests. They made the den into a makeshift bedroom for Ellie, Devon and Clara, while the other two couples were each assigned one of the spare bedrooms. Morgan and Chuck slept on cots in the living room while Alex would bunk in with her. The groom couldn't see the bride on the big day and Chuck didn't want his best friend downstairs alone.

"Dude, this place is huge," Morgan said.

"160 acres buddy. Most of it is fields that are rented out to a neighboring farm, but about 40 of it is woods. I could take up hunting."

"You could. We could. I could come up each fall and bag a deer and we could butcher it in your shed."

"We could. We probably won't, but we could," Chuck smiled in the darkness. "So dude, this is really happening," Chuck said.

"Yea. I can't believe how lucky I am. I mean, it's like I won the love lottery. I mean, I know there's no such thing and even if there was, well, let's face it – I'm not the luckiest guy on the planet. But if there was, man we both hit it big. You a beautiful, if not just a little scary at times, blond leggy spy and me with the sweetest most forgiving most adorable woman in the world. How she's related to Casey still baffles me a little, but..."

"You've got that right buddy. Well, big day tomorrow, we should probably think about winding down and getting a little sleep."

"And I can't thank you and Sarah enough for everything you've done. The backyard looks like a fairytale land and the stage and the music and the food. There is going to be food right?" Morgan said.

"Of course. Don't mention it buddy. Sarah's really enjoyed the planning. I can remember how she used to marvel at how obsessed Ellie got when she was helping plan our wedding. She didn't get it then, but I think she does now."

"I would say so," Morgan turned over toward Chuck and spoke a little more quietly. "So, is all of the spy stuff really over," he paused, "for both of you?"

"It really is buddy," Chuck said. "I closed up Carmichael Industries permanently and Sarah's expecting again."

"Dude, really?" Morgan said a little too loudly. Then back in a quieter voice, "Why didn't you say something man? That's great."

"Thanks buddy. But this is your weekend. Sarah and I are going to wait to tell everyone until next week."

"Congrats man," Morgan turned to look up at the ceiling in the dark. "Hey, if it's a boy, don't forget the name Morgan."

"We won't buddy."

-O-

The next morning Chuck and Morgan were up early. Morgan didn't sleep much of the night. Chuck made pancakes for everyone while Sarah and Ellie helped Alex with hair and makeup upstairs. Alex's mother arrived early and she headed upstairs to help her daughter on the big day. After breakfast (Sarah insisted Alex eat with the girls upstairs so Morgan didn't see her) guests began streaming in and Casey took the responsibility of helping park cars in the alfalfa fields around the house.

Mary Bartowski arrived, fresh from a mission in Kosovo, greeted everyone downstairs and went up to help the girls. "Grandma's here," she said coming into Sarah and Chuck's bedroom where the final preparations for the bride were underway. Clara ran to her and jumped into her arms. She looked beautiful in her little white dress. With Clara on her hip, Mary walked over to the bassinet in the corner, put down Clara and picked up Emma. "I assume you'll have me on grandchild duty this weekend," Mary smiled down at Emma.

"Absolutely," Sarah smiled back. "Thanks for helping out Mary."

"Are you kidding. I can't wait to spend the weekend with the grandkids. And there's no way I would pass up a chance to see little Morgan get married." Sarah and Ellie parted slightly and Mary got a glimpse of the bride for the first time. "Oh dear, you look beautiful. Simply beautiful. You know, there were times when Stephen and I questioned if this day would ever come."

"Everybody keeps saying that to me," Alex said. "Makes me wonder what exactly I'm getting into sometimes."

They all laughed, then Sarah turned slightly more serious. "You're not getting cold feet are you? I mean, we're all set to go here. Caterers are set up, the band is ready, all the guests are here." She looked to Ellie with wide eyes.

"No Sarah, I'm fine. And thank you for all of this by the way."

Downstairs everyone was seated in white folding chairs that faced north to the large white arbor where the minister waited with Morgan, Chuck and Devon for the girls to walk one by one down the aisle. For the wedding Sarah had hired a local string sextet made up mostly of musicians that played in the Madison Symphony Orchestra.

Canon in D began and Ellie came down first, followed by Sarah then Clara as the flower girl throwing rose petals as she nervously toddled to mom.

The sextet closed out Canon in D and loudly struck the first chords of "Here Comes the Bride". The entire assembly stood to see Casey and Alex step out from behind a line of lilac bushes. Morgan's face beamed as he saw his new bride in a beautiful white wedding dress for the first time. The entire time she walked toward him he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He walked the last few steps toward her and Casey lifted her veil and kissed her on the cheek. He stepped toward Morgan and shook his hand with a grip so firm it took everything Morgan had not to flinch. Casey leaned in to Morgan and whispered, "You're a good man Grimes. I know you'll take care of her."

Morgan nodded to Casey and took Alex's hand as they walked closer to the minister.

Like most grooms, Morgan couldn't tell you much about the ceremony. He didn't really hear what the minister said to the group or to the two of them. He just kept looking at her trying to understand his incredible luck. They decided to go with the traditional "repeat after me" as they both thought they would be too nervous to recite their own vows.

Finally the minister wrapped the ceremony with the words Morgan was waiting for since he saw Alex at the end of the aisle, "You may kiss the bride." The kiss was simple and sweet but filled with the promise of love and fidelity Morgan felt all the way to the depths of his heart. The minister had them turn to face the congregation and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm proud to present, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Morgan and Alex Grimes."

Amid the applause Alex leaned over to Morgan and said, "I can't believe my last name is Grimes."

Dinner was an informal but elegant affair. Buffet style, people could choose from a variety of wonderfully simple, but expertly prepared local beef, chicken and pork dishes. The corn, beef and chickens came from the farmer who leased the land from Chuck and Sarah. The head of catering company was a man who in a past life had actually prepared meals for men as powerful as Bill Gates and the President of the United States. He retired to this area about fifteen years ago and now delighted in seeing his food become part of the memories his friends, family and neighbors would cherish for the rest of their lives.

Casey danced with his daughter then handed out cigars to anyone who would accept. The guests included almost everyone Chuck and Morgan had ever worked with. Chuck chartered a flight for anyone from Burbank that wanted to attend. Most of the crew from the Buy More made the trip along with two remaining members of the C.A.T. Squad, Carina and Zondra. General Beckman attended the event with a gentlemen no one had seen before. Chuck almost didn't recognize the General with her hair down and out of uniform. Even Jeff and Lester, back from a long stint on the European music circuit, danced with their dates to the music of Peter and the Polka Aces. Although their named implied a strictly polka playlist, they had an amazing variety of contemporary hits, all be it with a slight polka flavor.

The eating, drinking and dancing continued long into the night until eventually the crowd thinned and just a diehard few remained. A white Mercedes limousine waited to take Morgan and Alex to Madison where they would spend the night at the Mansion Hill Inn before boarding a private jet to Fiji – a wedding present from Chuck and Sarah.

As the last few guests headed back to Madison or up to their rooms Chuck and Sarah watched from the front porch swing. "We did it," Sarah said, smiling.

"No, you did it," Chuck said turning to her with a warm smile on his lips. They kissed.

"Chuck, I love our new life. I can't wait to fill this house with children."

"Fill?"

"Well, we'll see. At least one more for now," she put her hand on her stomach.

Chuck covered her hand with his, "For now."

_A/N - In preparation for this and the release of Season 5 in May, I re-watched all four previous seasons. Once I got Season 5, I couldn't bring myself to watch the last three episodes again. But now I realize that if the series finale wasn't as it was, I would have never been driven to try this. I'll try to watch them this week._

_I appreciated all the reviews. I think I'm going to miss Chuck and Sarah a little. I imagine this won't be my last attempt to keep them alive. Until then, I can't wait to read the continuing stories from so many of the great writers on here._

__Thank you for reading this. __

__Eric__


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